


Off The Map

by XScribe



Series: Off The Map [1]
Category: The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Bi-Gender Character(s), Brian O'Conner/Dominic Toretto developing relationship, Letty Ortiz/Dominic Toretto ending relationship, Other, Possible Future Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2093034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XScribe/pseuds/XScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU spin on The Fast And The Furious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off The Map

**Author's Note:**

> This endeavor was a long time in coming. Many, many heartfelt thanks to my readers. Special thanks to Katal and many more thanks to Siberianskys for her great help and support.

Saturday – April 29

“There’s just something about engines that calms me down…” Jesse allowed with a waft of smoke from his cigarette.

Perched on the workshop stool drawn up beside the desk, Brian waited for Jesse to continue.

“Course, it would probably help,” Jesse went on, gazing off across the room while he toyed with his cigarette, “if I could get laid every now and then.”

Hoping Jesse was exaggerating, Brian laughed. “It couldn’t be hard for you to get dates, bro’.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Still gazing off, Jesse took another stiff hit. “You see, I got this problem…I have a hard time going after what I really want.”

Mildly surprised, Brian studied Jesse. He hadn’t expected that. “What is it you really want?”

Even after the admission about the ADD, Jesse hesitated. He crushed out the remainder of his cigarette, and hooded his eyes. “Women are just…” Jesse released his breath. “I don’t know. Like, not enough.”

“You mean sherms? Didn’t I see you with one after the race? At Toretto’s?”

“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout sherms,” Jesse interrupted impatiently, facing the monitor. “I’m talkin’ testosterone. Cock. Tight ass.”

Whoa. That was even more surprising. Brian rubbed his chin. “Then that’s what you should aim for.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how,” Jesse said dismissively, fumbling for another cigarette from his pack. “Anyway, you couldn’t possibly know what I’m talkin’ about…”

The distrustful edge in Jesse’s voice disturbed Brian. In spite of his job, he’d been getting to genuinely like Jesse. Gaining confidence in a suspect was treacherous, but essential. The last thing he wanted was for Jesse to back away. Although police officers were warned against divulging personal information about themselves, on the job, in that instance, Brian thought he could get better results if he ignored department policy. “Actually, I do.”

Startling, Jesse shot him a look, nearly dropping his unlit cigarette. Then calmed. “Oh, you mean Mia. It’s not the same kinda thing at all. You probably think she’s been giving you the run-around.”

There was no way Brian could explain the repercussions of getting involved with a suspect. He meant to keep a certain distance from her, while gaining her confidence. As attractive as she was, he would like to not have to maintain that distance. On the other hand, she sure hadn’t given him any real indication that she’d want anything more from him.

“See, she’s looking out for you. If it wasn’t for Dominic, with your looks, you wouldn’t have to ask her twice.”

That was even more puzzling. “What’s Dominic got to do with it?”

“You don’t know how he is, man. He don’t let just anybody take his little sister out. That’s why she’s never been involved with anybody for more than two minutes. Like I said, the thing with you and Mia is nothin’ like it is with me. I just don’t know how to approach guys that way, you know? Or let ‘em know I’m interested.”

Mentally filing the data, Brian went on. “Maybe you oughta try a direct approach,” he suggested. Not that he had nearly enough experience on the subject to be offering advice.

“Yeah?” Jesse tucked the cigarette behind his ear and turned to Brian, looking earnest. “Like how?”

Realizing the mistake he’d made, Brian hesitated. The scent of tobacco and a new anxiety sparked a strong nicotine craving in him. If it wasn’t for the fact that he genuinely liked Jesse, he would have made something up. “I don’t know for sure. I told you I’m no good at this, either.”

“You? Man, what would you have to worry about? And don’t even pretend guys don’t hit on you all the time.”

Brian frowned. “Who told you that?”

“Sure. You’re only fucking beautiful. What do they say?”

Another topic Brian wasn’t supposed to admit. There wasn’t any getting out of it at that point. “First of all, I’m usually pretty dense about it.” He rubbed the curls on the nape of his neck uncomfortably. “I usually don’t pick up on it unless they come right out and say it.”

“No? Then, what is it they say?”

Reluctant to discuss the subject, Brian dropped his head to watch where he scuffed at the concrete with the toe of his Converse. “They’re pretty blunt. Things…Like, they wanna get me out of my clothes…do things with their mouths and tongues...”

“I-I could try that.”

“I’m not saying you should be that direct.”

“But, you just said--”

“See, I don’t respond when guys say shit like that. It pisses me off.”

“That’s ‘cos you’re straight. You’re not gonna like what any guy says when he’s hitting on you.”

Further defying department policy, Brian allowed another admission. “I didn’t say that, either.”

Jesse was suddenly pumped. “You’re bi?”

“I’m herm.”

“Whoa! No shit!” Jesse almost fell off his stool. “I mean, fuck!” Grabbing the edge of the desk for support, he began to hyperventilate. “Fuck! Man, I wondered, but then I thought--fuck! Just ‘cos you’re so hot don’t make it so. It’s the way you dress--” 

“Yeah, I know.” That was the idea. Embarrassed, Brian got up. “Look—”

“Then you like guys, too.”

“That’s as far as my expertise goes. I’m gonna get goin’ and head over to the barbecue in case they need help setting up. I’ll see you over there.”

Before Brian made it halfway through the garage, Jesse spoke again, more nervous than before. “Was that direct enough in the right way when I said you were beautiful? ‘Cos I meant it, you know.”

It was Brian’s turn to be startled. 

“I mean, I know you’re all stuck on Mia right now, but guaranteed, Dom’ll give you shit about her once you try and get serious with her, so I’m just sayin’…”

Pretending not to have heard Jesse’s last words, Brian continued on his way out of the garage.

~~~

What the fuck?

The minute Vince saw the skinny, punk bitch already at the party, he knew it was bad news. So he’d taken off. But, damn, Toretto could barbecue and Mia could cook. With all the food and drink they’d picked up, the feast was gonna be killer.

It was like they’d outdone themselves to impress the punk bitch. It was then that Vince understood why Mia had been real insistent that they buy only skinless, boneless chicken. She’d also peeled, diced, or shredded every vegetable in the salad. Every time the prissy, spoiled girl came into the café, he always made her cut the crust off his damn tuna sandwiches and was really picky about what went into his salad whenever he ordered one. 

Though the prick had only been working on the Supra with them for the last couple of days, for some reason, Leon and Jesse acted like they’d been tight with him for years. Letty was the only other one who’d never been that friendly with the punk. She’d been putting up with him at the garage, only she seemed to get more and more leery of him over the course of the party. That had to be because Toretto, too, was making out like Spilner had suddenly become his golden boy. He spent more time with Spilner than anyone else, instead of enjoying the chance to kick back with his old lady. Every time she’d start to act like his girlfriend, Dominic would blow her off. She hung back at first, like she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Then she got pissed. He wouldn’t even let her lean on him or sit by him. He kept putting her off, suggesting she do stuff elsewhere.

While she was collecting the last empty bottles off the table, Vince spoke up. He was the only one at the table by then, in the gathering dusk. The tunes were still playing and Jesse and Leon were hanging around by Toretto and Spilner on the driveway. “I knew he was a punk-ass bitch.”

Letty narrowed her eyes in the direction of the driveway. “I don’t like this shit…”

“They been making out like he’s Jesus Christ or somebody.” Vince toyed with his Corona. He hadn’t forgotten how the snob had wiped off Vince’s bottle before taking a drink.

“Just who the fuck does he think he is?” she sneered. “I don’t know about Leon and Jesse, but I’ll take care of Dominic. He won’t even remember that pinche boy’s name in a couple of hours.”

~~~

Hardly noticing when dusk fell, they were still discussing fuel port systems out in the yard when Letty came up with another couple of open bottles of icy Corona. She handed one to Dom and took a drink from the other. “I brought you a beer.” She took his arm. “I’m sure the guys are dyin’ to see their movies; let ‘em go watch ‘em while we go upstairs.”

Ordinarily, Letty’s aggressive, bawdy behavior was welcome. That evening was completely different. Not in front of the guest--not this time. Usurping her move, Dom passed his beer to Spilner. “Sorry. She should have brought you one, too.” Then turned to Leon and Jesse. “Why don’t you go find Vee and set up the videos?” Then continued to Letty. “And I’m sure Mia could use a hand in the kitchen.”

Abruptly, Spilner attempted to pass the Corona back. “That’s cool. You all go start the videos; I’ll help Mia out in the kitchen.” He started off.

“No way,” Dom caught him. “What kind of host would I be, having the guest clean up?”

Affably, Spilner raised his eyebrows and gestured. “I don’t mind. Really.” He put the icy bottle in Dom’s hand.

Repressing their shock, Leon and Jesse sprang after Spilner, feeling Dom’s sharp look. They proceeded to ply him with the temptations of the latest action/adventure releases they’d rented.

“He wants to, let him do the dishes,” Letty said, taking Dom’s arm again. “I can think of better things to do with my time.”

He snatched her off him. “Don’t fuck with me,” he warned, raising a finger at her. “Go help Mia. I’ll be in in a few minutes.” Seeing their guest up on the rear steps, Leon and Jesse right behind, Dom called after him. “Spilner!” He had to push Letty to force her toward the house.

She cast him a surly glare and another one after Brian when she passed him, before she headed inside.

~~~

Not until the rear screen door slammed shut after her did Toretto proceed, while Spilner patiently waited. And not until Dom lead Spilner away from the open kitchen windows, did he say anything. They could easily hear voices drifting through the screens and the sound of the water running in the kitchen sink.

Wandering toward the back of the yard, beside the garage, Dom hesitated. He didn’t get why, but was feeling something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Whatever the hell it was.

At length, he remembered the beer in his hand and moved to take a drink--then decided he didn’t want it. He offered it to Spilner again.

“That’s okay,” Spilner declined. “I’m cool. What’s up?”

“Nothing…I…” There was something about the way those crystal clear, blue--then, dusty violet--eyes sparkled that made Toretto lose his train of thought. The way those amazingly pretty looks and those long, slender limbs and graceful hands evoked an inexplicable rush in him. A rush that was way beyond any he’d ever felt. One that made his pulse race. “I was wondering…say, where do you live, exactly? You usually walk over from there.”

“Why?”

“I’d just like to see your place. Why not?”

Spilner shrugged. “Sure. You can come by any day.”

“How ‘bout now?”

That surprised him. “Now? The guys are waiting on you to check out the movies. I thought you wanted to see them. Plus, I don’t feel right ditchin’ Mia with all that clean up. It seemed like Letty wanted to spend time with you--not the dishes. Why don’t you and her hang--?”

“Don’t worry about that.” The prospect of being alone with Spilner gave Dom a new jolt of adrenalin. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Why? Is the party over?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Good, ‘cos I wasn’t ready to leave yet.” Brian started back toward the house. “You can come by my place tomorrow.”

Dom went after him, cutting in front of him. “We’ll be back.”

Suddenly wary, Brian eyed Dom. “Something up? If something’s on your mind, just say it.”

Never at a loss to let his opinion be known, Dom was shocked when he couldn’t respond. “At your place. Let’s go.” He nudged one hard, bony shoulder through Brian’s white t-shirt.

“Wait. We shouldn’t just walk out on the party and not say anything.”

“I don’t gotta tell nobody shit. But, if it bothers you that much, Mis-ter Manners,” Dom allowed, “I’ll go let ‘em know.”

~~~

The walk along the well-kept, moderate-priced homes on the warm night was energizing. Or maybe it was the recent memory of that first walk with Spilner from Chinatown, infused with the buzz from the night of the race. The modest apartment where he lived wasn’t more than three blocks away.

“You live this close and we never ran into each other before?” Toretto commented.

“I haven’t been here long.” Shrugging, Spilner took his keys from his pocket.

“How long’s ‘not long’?”

“I don’t know. The week before I got the job at Harry’s.”

“I’m surprised he let you stay on after what I told him about you.”

“I guess I convinced him I’d work harder. I really needed the job, you know?” Unlocking the door, Spilner went in first. A single lamp was on in the living room, set low.

Inside, the place was neat. Nothing fancy, and all of it pretty plain. Nothing distinctive to give Dom any insight about the resident, but then, he’d just moved in a little over a month ago. “And before that, you were in Arizona,” Toretto finished the narrative, himself. “Why’d you come out here? Obviously not ‘cos you had a job waiting. Girlfriend?”

“You want another beer? I’m gonna go get myself one.”

They’d shared the one on the walk, Spilner having changed his mind about it. No wiping off the mouth of the bottle with Dom, he’d noticed. For good reason; Dom had made it seem like he still didn’t trust Spilner and something was wrong. Well, he didn’t trust him completely, and that remained to be seen.

Noting how thin his host looked beneath the baggy t-shirt and jeans, Toretto watched him exit for the kitchen. “What do you drink here at home?”

Brian chuckled, boyishly charming. “Actually, I’ve kinda gotten into Corona, too. It’s a bit more expensive, but a helluva lot better than Budweiser and Coors, you know?”

“Sounds good to me.” Alone in the living room, Dom began scanning the shelves and furniture tops for photos of a girlfriend, since Brian hadn’t answered the question. The only picture he saw was a poster of a Testa Rosa. “What does your girlfriend do out here in California?”

With a couple of frosty, open Coronas, Spilner returned. “I didn’t come out here for a girlfriend.” He handed one to Dom. “Actually, I’d like to ask your sister out, if that’s cool with you.”

Bottle halfway to his mouth, Dom froze. Shit. Spilner was straight. Of course. To hide his disappointment, Dom turned to look over the exotic machine on the poster and took a long drink.

“You don’t want me takin’ Mia out,” Spilner deduced.

Of all the assholes who had tried to date Mia, Brian was the first guy that over time, finally came to meet with Dom’s approval. “You like Ferraris?”

Backing to the sofa, Brian sat down, elbows on his knees. “See…that was why I didn’t want to leave the party already. I hadn’t got a chance to talk to her alone, all afternoon. I was thinking about asking her out. Is that gonna be a problem? I’ve already been on your bad side, so I know what that’s like.”

Dom took a seat on the sofa, as well, also at the edge. He didn’t look at Brian. “Shit, if I didn’t like you, you wouldn’t have been invited to the barbecue today. And you sure as hell wouldn’t be allowed in our garage. There is a problem, though.” Dom cut his eyes to his host. “…In those two years I spent in Lompoc, I learned some things. Some I’d never tried before. Bad as it was, there was one thing I learned that I did appreciate…”

Brian waited, then got impatient. “I get it. You’re even more sure you can’t trust anyone with Mia. So, you’d rather condemn her to living alone all her life?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Rancor was growing in Brian’s tone. “Then, what are you talking about, bro’?”

Setting the bottle on the coffee table, Dom leaned to his host. Interestingly, Brian waited in probable defiance. Like he meant to stand up to whatever Toretto might throw at him. The desire to kiss that lovely mouth had become too great and Dom moved in for a starved kiss.

In advance, he’d already prepared himself for Spilner’s anticipated reaction of a violent struggle, to be followed most likely by a vehement shove, if not a flat out right hook. Only none of that happened. Though he startled, he hesitated. Then responded, pressing back.

Once more, Dom was surprised, but this time pleasantly so. That made him all the hungrier; introducing his tongue, he found Spilner receptive to that, too. Not only did he part his lips, he let Dom push him into the backrest. Demonstrating a decided hunger of his own, Spilner went so far as to take Dom’s shoulders, and draw him closer.

It was only out of the need for answers that Dom momentarily broke the spell, though he lingered close. “Why…why were you asking about Mia…?”

The aquamarine eyes sparkled. “I sure as hell didn’t think I had a prayer with you.”

Amused, Dom chuckled. “I come off that butch?”

Relaxing against the backrest, Brian veiled his eyes with his long lashes and smiled. It was dreamy and dazzling. “Way.”

~~~

He was incredible. Beneath the ever-present baggy t-shirt and jeans, stalked a lithe, tight, tanned, amazing body. Not big, but ripped, lean, hard muscles with killer abs and a smooth, firm chest. In turn, Brian seemed just as impressed as he undressed Dom there on the sofa. As though awestruck, Brian ran his hands and mouth over Dom’s shoulders, chest, and abs. Watching Brian lower his blond head as he explored Dom’s body was surprisingly thrilling.

On reaching Dom’s pants, Brian unfastened them, fumbling in his haste. The dude had done a great job of presenting a straight façade; despite Vince’s repeated accusations regarding Spilner’s sexual orientation, Dom had implicitly believed his long-time homeboy to be dead wrong. In fact, Dom was the one who’d been dead wrong. Once Brian had wrestled Dom from the chinos, he took the erection he’d released to his mouth without hesitation. There was no doubt Brian knew what he was doing; he wrapped his long, graceful fingers around Dom, plied him with a warm, skillful tongue and mouth, and plunged him into an unbelievable plane of ecstasy. God, and he’d tried to chase Spilner off.

Though Brian seemed ready to satisfy strictly by oral means, Dom was too eager to get at that body. He had to stop Brian.

“Let’s go someplace with a little more room.”

Down on Dom’s lap, Brian looked up, wet-mouthed and a little unfocused. He had to think. “The sofa…the sofa’s a pull-out.”

Dom looked toward the hall. “You don’t got a bed?” he kidded.

“Oh…A course.” Quickly collecting his clothes and beer, Spilner then led the way to the bedroom.

That reminded Dom to pick up his own beer on the way. His host’s general demeanor had been a far cry from promiscuity. And that suggested he must have had some very significant Y-friend before. Yet, he’d come off as completely straight, too.

Before Dom could analyze those thoughts any further, Brian switched on a lamp at the bedside of the dark room they’d entered

By the golden glow of the dim light, there he was. Fucking beautiful. It was a beauty one didn’t often see outside of film. And Spilner didn’t seem to have a clue about it, so that completely changed the deck. His face was already off the charts. Nobody would think to hope that his body could be just as incredible, but it was. Definitively toned, smooth, and drop-dead perfect. Under the overly loose-cut jeans and long t-shirts he wore, there was no way anyone could guess there was a body like that. Strong proof that Spilner was no slut. Anyone with a mind-blowing body like that would knock himself out dressing to show it off--probably just stay naked twenty-four/seven. Funny thing was, Dom wasn’t even attracted to blonds. But, this one was the exception.

And then the kid turned back.

Son-of-a-whore, he was hung. 

In irrepressible shock, Dom couldn’t keep his eyes off Spilner’s set. With neither explanation nor excuse, Brian returned to Dom and drew in close.

“Where were you hiding all that?” Dom couldn’t help but step back for another look. 

Offering no enlightenment, Brian moved in for a kiss.

It almost seemed to Dom that even though he’d stripped, he was still trying to hide it. Or maybe Dom was just imagining things; all he knew was that the sensation of that pretty, archer’s bow-shaped mouth against his easily took precedence over any more thinking for the time being. Naturally, their cocks nudged. As the kiss deepened, he felt both their erections crashing into each other, then sliding upwards against their bellies. When Dom could wait no more; he gripped that little ass in both hands and ground his aroused equipment into Spilner. He likewise prodded right back.

Pressing Brian down onto the bed, Dom ran his mouth and hands over that beautiful body. When he sucked on the sweet apricot-bronze tits, Spilner gasped and tipped his head back, revealing his long neck.

A strip of thin, golden-brown curls traced from his belly button down to the base of his superbly sculpted cock. It was almost too pretty to touch. But, Dom had to—had to have something so dauntingly impressive.

Before he could reach for it, its erect state started to wane and that was when he realized Brian was holding his breath.

As though trying to hide the missed beat, he sat up and made to press Dom to his back, instead.

That wasn’t reassuring. Resisting Brian’s attempt to lead, Dom proceeded with what he was dying to do and took that cock. Ignoring that it was going slack, he licked the gleaming, wet, salty nectar from the opening down into the cleft, and then fervently fed the sensitive head into his mouth. Though tentative, it responded slightly. Once Dom began exploring it, cradled between his tongue and palate, Brian relaxed and lay back again. In unmistakable pleasure, his cock jumped in response. That seemed to rule out the possibility that he’d changed his mind about courting sex. Whatever had given him second thoughts seemed forgotten. From that point, his cock grew hard and firm so rapidly, Dom was forced to back up to accommodate it or choke.

Unable to sink it in very far, as soon as he found the maximum level he could take, he hungrily worked it in his mouth towards Brian’s satisfaction.

For his part, Brian’s increasingly labored breathing and reserved hip-bucking left no question as to how much he was enjoying Dom’s oral play.

In a few moments, he struggled. “Wait!” 

Though Dom had no desire to let that long, delicious piece out of his mouth, it was too slippery to hold.

The moment Brian was free, he slid higher up towards the head of the bed, knees far apart.

Much to Toretto’s surprise and delight, he found himself granted with an unimaginably awe-inspiring revelation. Without realizing it, by making Spilner’s generous set of tools tighten up, Dom had exposed one heart-stopping, neat, little herm pussy. Whoa. The kid was beyond belief.

Listening to Spilner’s aroused panting lilted musical to Dom as he lapped, then devoured deep between the demure, slick petals. Once again, Brian worked for pleasure, tilting his pelvis and pressing his taut, generous testes out of the way. When Toretto could wait no more, he crawled over Brian to mount.

Brian stopped him. “No, not without a cover.”

A cover? What the hell, a cover? Spilner was right, of course. “I didn’t know that anything was gonna happen,” Dom admitted. “I didn’t know to come prepared.” He glanced toward the single bed table. “If you don’t mind…”

Likewise, Brian glanced at the same piece of furniture, then back to Dom, appearing out of breath. “I-I don’t got any.”

And there it was again--that refreshing innocence. “Really?” Dom was even more charmed. “I like that.” The problem wasn’t without solution. Closing in once more, Dom tucked those little hips on his lap, hell bent to enter.

“I said--”Brian almost started to extricate himself.

“Don’t worry.” Dom offered assurance as obviously the more experienced. “I won't finish in you.”

~~~

Sunday – April 30

“Where the fuck have you been?” Letty demanded, looking up from her bowl of cereal, in front of the TV. She wore an oversized t-shirt, her hair wet from the shower.

Offering no answer yet, Dom continued up the stairs.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Letty hastened after him.

In the bedroom, he paused. The bedcover lay three-quarters on the floor; Letty’s clothes and several pairs of her shoes were thrown around; messy piles of clean laundry he and Mia had done for her all contributed to a general squalor in the room. Whenever Letty’s disregard for housekeeping got on his nerves, he’d say something, but for the most part, wound up doing it himself. It was one of those moments.

Having showered and breakfasted at Brian’s, Dom only needed to change into some clean clothes.

Letty entered behind him. “I asked you where the fuck you were. It’s nine-fucking-thirty in the morning and you’re just barely dragging your ass in!”

“I told you.” Dom went to the closet. “I went to Spilner’s.”

“All fucking night? What’d you do? Go find yourselves a couple of whores? Fuck all night at his place?”

“Nothing like that,” he assured her.

“No? Is his company so much more fucking interesting than mine now?”

Stepping into another pair of chinos, Dom glanced around the room. “Well, for one, he keeps a much neater place than you. When’re you gonna clean up this shit, anyway?”

“Why didn’t you call? Don’t he got a phone? You couldn’t call and tell me where you were?”

“First of all, I don’t gotta tell you shit.” Zipping his pants, he headed for the dresser for some socks. “The only reason I told you I was taking off last night was on account Spilner thought it was rude not to. So you knew goddamn well where I was.”

Foiled by the answer, it took her a few moments to go on. When he sat on the edge of the bed, she advanced. “You know something? I didn’t give a shit about him one way or the other before, but now I’m beginning to think Vince is right. He’s a smart-ass wannabe. It’s one thing he owes you a car, so he’d better damn well help us put that junked-out wreck back together, but I don’t want him hanging around, partyin’ with us no more.”

“I’ll invite whoever the hell I want to my house,” Toretto said calmly. “You don’t even pay one fucking dime for food or rent around here, so I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

~~~

Brian watched the back door shut when Dom left in the morning.

Alone, Brian was forced to confront his actions. If he hadn’t had to get back to his duplex to pay some bills, check a couple of days’ worth of mail and phone calls, and catch up on his reports, he wouldn’t have minded accompanying Toretto back to the garage that morning. That junk had to be done, though so Brian had to make up some excuse before he could get back to the garage later that day.

Contrary to what he’d hoped, cleaning the breakfast dishes didn’t preoccupy him. If anything, it gave him too much opportunity to think. Think about what had happened the night before. The idiotic relinquishment of his common sense for what had become an irrepressible fascination, which eventually—dangerously--came to include more than that. Fuck, he wanted to kick himself. Falling for a mark was just plain stupid. Even if Toretto hadn’t been a mark, he was still a goddamn convict.

But, it had been so damn incredible. Physical memories of their wild, overheated encounter lingered, as evidenced by his tender crotch from the size and lust of Toretto. All right, yeah, Brian admitted to himself as he scrubbed the 10-inch skillet, he liked ‘em bad. And tough. Toretto certainly fit those criteria. Not to mention fucking hot-looking and ripped like nobody’s business. That sensitive mouth--those big, beautiful, dark, long-lashed eyes even in his mug shots looked good, though they didn’t begin to do him justice.

Plus, there was Mia. She had to go and be beautiful, too. Then she started giving Brian looks and flirting. Yeah, he was supposed to gain some trust with them for surveillance purposes, but damn…Getting this involved with either of them violated a strict rule in his profession. Though he’d had plenty of offers to violate it over his career thus far, he’d never been tempted to that point before. Tempted beyond any rationale, so when Toretto had kissed him the night before, Brian’s willpower completely melted. It was the worst way ever to handle his first important assignment at undercover work towards earning a detective’s badge.

It was fucking stupid.

The only solution was to make sure it didn’t happen again.

~~~

When it was 1:30 in the morning and Dominic still hadn’t come back home or called or nothing, that was a bad sign. Vince hung around another half hour ‘til Letty fell asleep on the sofa, waiting for Dom. Then he left, since everyone else had gone home.

In the early afternoon, when the Team got to the garage, everything seemed like it was going to be okay without Spilner around. Letty was still kind of tense, but she relaxed after a while.

Some three hours later, he showed up. Vince and Letty glanced at each other, both pissed about the intruder.

Under the car, Dom looked out. “It’s about time you showed up, Spilner.”

“Man, fuck this dude.” Vince decided to root out the problem once and for all. “We don’t need his punk ass. What’s he know about cars we don’t?”

“This ain't a car yet,” Dom pointed out, “it’s a pile of junk. The deal ain’t done ‘til I get my ride.”

“I know a better way he can help,” Vince countered. “Put him in a short skirt on the street and he can earn all the money it’s gonna take to fix the damn thing.”

Letty laughed loudly, but she was the only one.

Though Spilner paused, he didn’t do or say anything, other than to rip into one of the clean packs of coveralls on the shelf from the laundry.

Dominic didn’t sound too amused. “You better watch your ass, Vince. If he turns out to be a good mechanic, I may decide to have him replace you. And you wouldn’t be anywhere that useful on the street.”

~~~

Whatever had been going on at the barbecue didn’t seem to have skipped a beat. Everybody but Letty and Vince seemed way too attentive to Spilner. Fortunately, Mia was too busy studying hard at home like she always did Sundays, because Vince didn’t think he could stomach watching her flirt all over the buster another day. Up until he got there, things seemed to be okay between Dominic and Letty. He must have had a good explanation as to why he’d ditched the party so long the night before. Once Spilner got there, though, the situation went bad again. it was like all of a sudden Letty turned invisible.

Better than anybody Vince knew, Toretto’s poker face had always kicked ass. He hadn’t always been buff, so he learned to be clever as a kid. He never let nothing on to nobody, and when he came back from Lompoc, his skills were even better. Only because Vince had known him so long, did he know how to read him.

It was bad enough Dominic started to ignore Letty like he had the day before, but then he had to go and focus his attention on Spilner. It was subtle enough for Leon, Jesse, and even Letty not to see it, but Vince did. He saw Dom studying and looking after the punk too often, with want in his eyes. Saw him brush close, stand where he was sure to get backed into, touch his hand or his wrist…even though Spilner and Letty seemed oblivious, Vince was all too aware it was going on. He struggled to get a moment alone with Toretto to get in his face about it, without success. Then the next thing he knew, Toretto and Spilner had both slipped out without telling anybody shit.

When they hadn’t come back by 11:00 pm, Letty took off to go see if he’d gone home. She called Vince fifteen minutes later on his cell and told him there wasn’t any sign that Dom had been there. Much as working with Spilner sucked, there was something going on with him and Dominic, and Vince was determined to find out what the hell it was. 

~~~

Working with Spilner that late afternoon at the garage quickly turned into something of a torture. Though he was dressed as usual and acted no different after their night together, the only thing Dom could think about was getting Brian some place private.

As soon as Spilner showed up, Letty and Vince let their disdain for him show. Before, she was indifferent, but she was becoming more rude, argumentative, and abrasive with him. Spilner could have given it right back to her, and Dom would have had his back. Instead, the kid deferred to her, a telling gesture about his personality.

At around 8:00 that evening, Dom could wait no more. He’d been brushing against the kid since he’d shown up, touching him any way possible. Entranced by that face and body, Toretto had a hard time getting himself to look away. 

Briefly hidden behind the raised hood of the Supra with Brian alone, Dom gestured to step out for a private word.

Outside, behind the garage, no words were necessary; Dom seized Spilner and pressed him into the wall for a deep, consuming kiss. At first nervous and uncertain, Spilner hesitated, then he began to kiss Dom in warming response. Longing for the taste and feel of Brian, Dom sought after that sweet tongue in desperation. With equal fervor, Brian drove for Dom’s tongue. 

When they could bring themselves to part, panting, Dom murmured, their focus on each other’s mouths, “Let’s go…let’s go to your place.”

~~~

On reaching the apartment, they showered together, and washed off all the oil and grease. Spilner didn’t say much, but didn’t leave any question about what he wanted, either. It was impossible not to notice his long, beautiful fingers, lathered in soap as they slid over Dom’s body. Those weren’t the hands of a mechanic, but an artist—yet another admirable feature of Spilner’s.

From there they went straight to his bed, still wet from the shower. Fully hard, he embraced Dom and wrapped a leg over him, inviting him in. Dom found himself crushed by that amazingly agile, sweet, little pussy once again. In truth, he hadn’t had a lot of experience with herms, what with Letty always on his ass. He’d always appreciated her sherm anatomy, only this was way more. In particular, with Brian’s generous endowments, a hell of a lot more. Bigends were imprisoned separately from unigends in lockup, so there was no interaction between them. The stuff he’d heard, however, barely scratched the surface.

First, Brian was a fucking Adonis. Beyond that, Dom had heard that herms boasted all the strength and lust of a full male. Brian sure as hell proved that. His healthy set of equipment was in incredible working order, too. He ground himself against his lover, crushed him between his long, slender thighs, and made love with a strength and endurance Dom previously only fantasized about. With the onset of vaginal and even more intense--penile orgasms--his muscular pussy shredded as it induced Dom’s orgasm. Deep inside Brian, Dom felt the violent wrenching it took to milk jets of hot seed from his contracting testicles.

It felt good holding Brian. When they kissed afterwards, it was against each other’s jaw, throat, ears, shoulders. Still recovering, it didn’t take long for the soft kisses to turn into sensual mouthing all over again.

On top, Brian shifted himself to insinuate his new erection between Dom’s thighs. This, however, was a whole other prospect. The guys in Lompoc quickly learned that Dom was the kind of guy who set his own rules. No way in hell did anybody with a dick that big ever get it near his ass.

But, unlike Lompoc, this had to be handled differently. Taking Brian, Dom turned him onto the bed to take over.

~~~

Screw it, Toretto was just that fucking good. A body like that—fuck, he was gorgeous. The power coiled in those massive muscles…the rock-hard chest, arms, legs, ass. Brian didn’t know what made him the hottest. He had to have it all. And those thin pubes that left nothing to the imagination about the size and state of that handsome, thick, big-ass cock… No matter how much he still seared in pain from the first time, he throbbed to be penetrated.

At some point, fatigued beyond sense of time, Brian was awakened by that deep, quiet, gravelly voice close by. He stirred to find he’d fallen asleep beside Dom, a leg over him. Oh, yeah, Brian was supposed to get up, clean up the mess he’d made on his guest, and see him to the door.

“You got a pierced ear?” Dom was asking.

“Lemme get another towel,” Brian slurred, and struggled to pull himself together to get up.

“Don’t worry about it; I like it. I like the feel of your warm jizz all over me. I just hadn’t noticed before that your right ear is pierced. I’ve never seen you wear an earring. You prefer bigend guys?”

If Dom didn’t mind, Brian sure preferred not to get up. He settled himself better on his guest—ooh—and felt what Dom was talking about. Crap. It was going to make a mess. That woke him up. He sat up. Damn, his pussy felt about equally wet. More mess. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, man. I’ll get some tow--” He started to get up.

Dom caught his arm and pulled him back down. “Fuck the towels. I like your slippery cream better. You should wear an earring to let people know.”

“Earrings,” Brian corrected, deciding to give up and go back to sleep. “Both my ears are pierced.”

“Really?” Dom sounded tickled. “Why don’t you wear any? You’d look amazing.”

“Don’t got any…” Brian trailed, using Dom’s shoulder for a pillow.

“What do you mean you don’t got any? Why in fuck not?”

“Didn’t bring any…” Not on that assignment, he wasn’t supposed to.

~~~

Monday – May 1

The bed was made, clothes put away, and the room was relatively neat. It was nearly 10:00 in the morning, and by that time, Letty’s hair was dry and she was dressed. Her feeble effort was way too little, way too late. Dom had returned home for clean clothes and nothing more. 

“What is up with you and fucking Spilner?” she demanded. “If you’re not picking up girls, what the hell do you do all night?”

“We talk, for one.”

“You got plenty of people to talk to around here.”

For the moment, Dom was ready to leave it at that.

She pressed, however. “What the fuck are you saying? You think he’s better than us? He’s better company than us?”

He changed his pants, turned from her.

Suddenly, her voice was right behind him. “What the fuck is it? You turn homo? You got the hots for him?”

Zipped, he confronted her. “You know, I’m getting real sick of this shit. Don’t expect me home tonight, either.”

~~~

With Letty’s attitude the day before, when she didn’t show up at the garage the next day, the Team began to ask questions. 

“You guys have a fight or som'm?” Leon wondered, digging through drawers for a tool soon after Dom had arrived.

“Who are you all of a sudden?” Dom retorted, annoyed. “Jerry Springer? What’s it to you?”

Surrendering in deference, Leon quickly raised a hand.

They’d learned they’d have to replace the clutch, the day before. With Vince assisting on a creeper on the other side, Dom joined him under the Supra on his own creeper, to work. It wasn’t long before Vince apparently felt compelled to make his opinion known. At least he was quiet about it, which was odd for him.

“You got it on for Spilner.”

Dom exhaled, impatiently. “You get a job scouting for Jerry Springer, too?”

Knowing better, Vince kept busy. “It ain't cool.”

“What ain't cool?” Dom asked, absently.

“Nothing about it’s right.”

“What’s not right? Ditching a surly, lazy, cold-ass cunt like Letty?”

It must have surprised Vince to hear Dom’s blunt assessment of her because it took him a moment to go on. “But, she’s Letty, man…You guys have been together forever…”

Dom didn’t bother to make an acknowledgment. “You getting’ those bolts?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Vince quickly went back to ratcheting. “It’s just that…with Letty, you know…” He checked around them then spoke even quieter. “We got a thing, you know?”

Preoccupied with thoughts of Spilner’s tight, incredible body, Dom didn’t give a damn what Vince was talking about. “You want her, she’s yours.”

“No, man, that’s not what I--”

“Hey, Jesse, Leon.” Dom called. “We’re gonna need the drain pan down here.”

~~~

Wednesday – May 3

A couple of days later, Letty strode into the garage. The reports Vince had been giving her lacked any real evidence of anything. The only thing he could tell her for sure was that Dom and Spilner always left at the same time. The only and best way to fix the situation was to take over with intent to kick ass.

Braless, she wore a form-fitting, Lycra tank top to the garage. Before suiting up in her coveralls, she made a point to stand in front of Dom. He didn’t even seem to notice her or her outfit.

Spilner wasn’t there yet, but according to Vee’s reports, he didn’t show up ‘til Harry’s closed, after 5:30 pm. That gave Dom time to have to interact with her—whether to make excuses or apologize for his indifference toward her for the last several days. He didn’t bother to do either.  
Once Spilner did get there, even when Dom absolutely had to pay attention to her as they worked together, he was distracted.

So every chance she got, she insinuated herself into their conversations, stepped between them as often as she could, and tried flirting with Dom.

It didn’t prove easy to find any fault with Spilner. He didn’t mind her presence—in fact, he appreciated her help. If anything, he managed to be annoyingly cool without kissing ass.

Dominic, however, started getting fed up with Letty pretty quick. That incited her to increase her efforts and one of them was for Mia’s sake. 

After closing down the market at the usual time, Mia had shown up at the garage, too. She’d brought her homework with her and sat on a stool at one of the tables, hunched over it ‘til Spilner got there. Soon after, she volunteered to go get take-out dinner and tried to prompt him to go with her, which would give them some privacy. He didn’t. She busted her balls to bring him something special. Even, so, whenever she tried conversing with him or anything, he responded very little. He was polite and friendly, but not like he used to do at the market. No doubt Dom had told him to lay off his sister, same way he always ended up doing to everybody who looked at her. Again, there was no faulting Spilner there; he was just being respectful. It sucked for Mia, though. In this particular case, it really sucked. Sure, Vince wouldn’t like it, but Spilner would get so busy hanging out with Mia, he wouldn’t have so much time to invite Dom to go clubbing or looking for other women, or whatever it was they did.

A little before 9:00 p.m., Mia finally gave up and packed up her books and left. It wasn’t long before Vee alerted Letty.

“Hey,” he told her, watching from the far corner of the garage, from where they worked beneath the Supra, on the hydraulic lift. “Dominic and Spilner been gone too long. They’re probably fixing to take off together, like they always do.” 

Immediately, Letty stepped out from under the car to scope the garage. He was right; she didn’t see either of them. 

“If you wanna hold onto Dominic,” Vee warned, “I suggest you go after ‘em.”

Grabbing the first clean shop rag near by, Letty wiped her hands, and raced toward the restrooms.

Without hesitation, she seized the doorknob of the men’s room and yanked it open. As Vince had predicted, both were in there, changing out of their greasy coveralls and work boots. 

Both looked surprised by her entrance. Dom, however, got pissed. “What do you want?”

She ignored the question. “You guys goin’ somewhere?”

“We’re taking a break,” Dom stated.

“You mean we’re done for the night,” she presumed. “Cool by me.” She unzipped her own coveralls. “Where we goin’?”

“We’re not goin’ anywhere,” Dom said pointedly. “Spilner and I are taking a break—not you. You wanna leave for the night, too, that’s your business. Just make sure you put your tools away before you go.”

“But,” she laughed, incredulous, “you guys aren’t putting your stuff away.”

“Take care of your own shit,” Dom growled.

“That’s funny.” She approached him. “’Cos that’s exactly what I’m trying to do. Which is why I’m coming along with you.” She dropped the top half of her coveralls. “Wherever you guys are going, I’m going with you. Strip clubs, lap dances—let’s go have some fun, man.”

“You wanna hear something funnier?” he contested. “You’re not invited.”

~~~

Great as Vince’s suggestion was to follow them, Letty couldn’t do it. She knew they’d recognize her 240 SX right away behind them.

Instead, she changed and cleaned up enough as fast as possible, then went directly home.

Only Mia’s Acura was present at the curb. The light in her bedroom window burned behind the curtains.

The kitchen was empty. Faintly, Letty heard water running through the pipes.

Upstairs, Letty saw Mia’s bedroom door was ajar, but the bathroom door was shut, the light on inside, the bath taps running. 

“Mia.” Though Letty knew the door would be locked, she rattled the knob and pounded the door with an open hand. “Mia.”

“I’m taking a bath,” Mia said through the door.

“No shit,” Letty remarked. “Open the door. I gotta ask you somethin’.”

“What’re you doing here, anyway? You guys were in the middle of replacing the crankcase.”

“Yeah, but—look, just unlock the door.”

A moment later, the key rattled in the old lock, and Mia, in her robe, stepped back. “What’s so damn important?” She went to the bubble-filled tub to stir the water while it filled.

“You know where Spilner lives?”

“Why should I?”

Entering behind her, Letty pressed. “Don’t bullshit me, girl. Don’t pretend you haven’t tried to find out.”

“Ever since he and Dom got to be such pals, I lost interest.”

“Oh, pul-ease,” Letty jeered. “You’ve only been coming to the garage to study every evening any more, wearing tight, clingy clothes with no bra, tits jiggling. Jumping at every chance to pull favors for Spilner.”

“I do not!”

“Like I can't tell.”

“It’s not like anyone my size even has to wear a bra,” Mia mumbled.

“That’s what you think.”

She hung her head, glumly. “It’s pretty obvious Brian hasn’t noticed. He hasn’t made one move to ask me out since he’s been coming to work on the Supra.”

“I got a pretty good idea why he hasn’t asked you out. Him and Dom have been going out skank-hunting. I’ll bet he’s got a different girl every night—maybe two or three at a time--who knows?”

Mia looked up sharply. “Who told you that? Dom?”

“He hasn’t told me shit. His cojones would be hanging from my rear-view mirror, if he’d told me that.”

“Then how can you make an accusation like that?” Mia sounded disgusted.

“Then what are they doing? Why don’t Dominic ever invite me along? Why won't he tell me what they’re doing?”

Mia sighed. “You’re overreacting.” She shut off the taps. “Why do you always have to be so paranoid? How many times have you sworn Dom was seeing somebody else, yet look how long you guys have been together. So, he and Brian are hanging out and having a few beers? It’s no big deal.” She untied her robe.

“I’m gonna go find out for sure. If you don’t know where Spilner lives, do you at least know what he drives?”

“No. Other than that red F150 for Harry.”

“Man, don’t you know anything about the dude? You got it on for him, but you don’t ask him nothing? You know, maybe that’s why he’s looking elsewhere. You should show some real interest in him, ‘cos if you don’t, he’ll find someone who does. Someone who gives a fuck about getting to know him. Right now, you can bet he’s finding plenty of prospects, too.”

Leaving her robe on the hook, Mia stepped into the tub. Boy, Spilner sure didn’t know what he was missing, passing her up. Seated, she leaned back in the bubbles. “You-you think so?”

“With those blond curls, big, blue eyes, and 10-inch lashes? Get real. Soon as I rip Dominic a new asshole, I’ll try and talk some sense into Spilner. Let him know what a pendejo he is for not hooking up with you.”

“Don’t do that. You’re probably right. If I want him to ask me out, I need to take some initiative.”

“You do that, but in the meantime, I’m not putting up with Dom staying out all night no more. I’m gonna go find out what I can.”

~~~

Taking some choice lock picks with her, Letty drove off to scope the neighborhood. Spilner lived within walking distance and that was a pretty good start. It couldn’t be too hard to find anyone who lived that close.

Spotting a red F150 on a covered parking driveway for a small group of apartments, she stopped to shine her flashlight on the cab door. Sure enough, she immediately recognized the Racer’s Edge logo. Huh. She hadn’t expected Harry would let an employee take a company vehicle home. The apartment numbers were clearly painted on the concrete for each parking space.

It sounded like the TV was on inside. That gave her cover as she quietly tooled open the door.

Though she expected to catch them partying with the latest herd of whores they’d found that night, the TV played at a moderate volume to a vacant living room. Other than for four empty or near-empty bottles of Corona on a coffee table. 

A quick scan of the layout told her where the other rooms must be. Silently, she approached the rear of the apartment. Removed from the noise of the TV, through the open door of a softly lit room, she recognized Dom’s unmistakable gasps, grunts, and moans of ecstasy. And those from another male, for certain.

Hiding in the shadows, Letty peeked in. A couple of lamps were on, so there was no mistaking what was going on.

Seeing women flocking around her man infuriated her enough. The suggestion of a gay affair had only been made in anger; she didn’t actually believe it. Never mind that both of them were naked on the bed and Dom was on his knees, over that skinny, white boy while they wildly, breathlessly kissed. Then Dom lowered his head and she saw his muscles brace to steer his big, glorious cock up the faggot.

She burst into the room. “Fucking, pinche puto!” Storming the bed, she yanked at Dom’s powerful shoulders. “Get the fuck away from him!” No match for his strength, her efforts at least got him to rear back. In that unguarded second, she dove at Spilner's throat.

He knocked her hands aside instantly. That further spiked her fury; she tried to punch him, but he blocked her blows with his bony forearms. In that same instant, Dom seized her arms behind her and pinned them back. As he pulled her from the bed, she saw even more reason to freak. Though his hard-on was clearly falling, the goddamn gringo bore an annoyingly long cock with a hefty sac. Was that what Dom wanted? A big cock?

“Son-of-a-bitch!” she yelled, struggling. “What the fuck are you doing, man? You like guys now?”

“Letty,” Dom chastised. 

Probably to spare the bitch, Dom pushed Letty into a bathroom just outside the bedroom door. The moment he let go, she whipped around to launch another attack, but Dom stood in the way. At least his hard-on was softening, so she didn’t have to see the boner that a guy had given him. “Look, it’s over with us. You should have left it at that and not come here.”

“What the fuck kinda drugs has he been giving you? What the hell’s going on?”

“That’s another thing about you that pisses me off. I really hate when you start mouthing off, showing your ignorance.”

The struggle had flung a lock of hair in her mouth. Stunned, she drew it out, as she studied his face. “Just what the fuck is that supposed to mean? How long have you been lusting after guys? Since Lompoc? Is that what you’ve really always wanted? A big dick?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You know, those are some pretty good questions. Hmm. Maybe I just got sick of putting up with a goddamn bitch. Now go pack up your shit and get the fuck outta my house.”

~~~

Thursday – May 4

With Letty’s departure very early that morning, Mia didn’t go to the garage to work on the Supra after she closed down the market. She hadn’t been able to do any more than doze very lightly before she had to get up and get to class. Unfortunately, the shock she was in made it hard to concentrate on the lectures; instead all she could do was dwell on Letty’s words as she packed her things in the kind of fury that made it seem her intent was to leave Dom forever. Few as they were, they’d struck Mia.

In all honesty, Mia saw merit in the termination of her brother’s long-time relationship with Letty; she was a bitch. What Dom saw in her romantically, had always been a mystery to Mia. 

The night Letty had come home after she’d gone out to look for Dom, she’d been cussing in both Spanish and English as she hastily stuffed her clothes and things into her duffel and clean, plastic garbage bags. Too mad to talk, all she’d tell Mia about what had happened throughout most of the packing between curses was, “You don’t wanna know.” 

One of the few traits she did understand that made Letty appealing to her brother was that she wasn’t much of a gossip. Every now and then she and Mia would share secrets. So, she’d become used to Letty’s degree of reserve. After all, Mia was used to Dominic’s, which had always been far more aggravating.

At three in the morning, while Mia had helped lug the last bag of Letty’s belongings to the back door, she delivered the unsettling K.O. that had winded Mia. If Letty had chosen to keep her mouth shut about what she’d found out, that would just have to be; however, while they hastily packed, it seemed she was itching to divulge at least some part of it. Only Mia hadn’t expected to be the target. As always, Letty wasn’t about to go down without taking someone with her. “You better just forget all about that white boy; he never gave a shit about you. He’s joto. It was Dom he was after, all along.”

Mia had been stunned to silence. What in hell had happened when she got there that would make her think that? Wordless, she followed Letty out to her 240 SX. 

While she got behind the wheel, Mia loaded the bag into the back seat. There was only one thing she could conclude, well aware of Letty’s vindictive nature. “Why do you make up shit like that? It’s not my fault Dom can be such an insensitive prick sometimes. Whatever he did, I’m sorry, but I’ve told you before to dump his ass.”

“Yeah, I know.” Letty adjusted her rear-view mirror. “And I should have listened. I’m not blaming you, I’m warning you.” 

“Bullshit. It’s a lie and you know it.”

“Like hell. When I got over there, I found them fucking.”

“No way.” For sheer credibility, Mia wondered why Letty had invented such a wild story. Then again, it was obvious she was determined to take Mia down, too, no matter how extreme the lengths it would take to get her there. 

Letty narrowed her eyes down the hood of her car. “Fine. Tell yourself whatever the fuck you want, girl. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Backing out the door, Mia had stood on the driveway and watched Letty speed off.

~~~

Right after Letty showed up at the garage to collect her personal belongs and tools, Dom made sure she didn’t stick around long enough to gossip. She didn’t have to; it was clear she was splitting. Neither Leon nor Jesse, who weren’t about to, said anything after she left.

Unlike his teammates, Vince hovered by the office cubicle until Dom looked up from the parts catalog he was hunting through. He found Vince studying him.

“You chose Spilner,” he deduced.

Knowing him as well as Dom did, he knew there was no way in hell Vince was done bitching about the situation. “It was no contest.”

“He’s herm, ain't he?”

What Vince lacked in brains he sometimes made up for with occasional surprising flashes of insight. Usually, it didn’t take long for anyone to figure out a person’s exact gender by the way they dressed and wore makeup and jewelry. Spilner, on the other hand, was one of those androgends who evidently liked going strictly masc all the time. That made it hard to tell. There was no playing it off any more. “Oh? What gave it away?”

“Fuckin’ fay, pretty-girl piece a ass like that? And them dainty no-crust sandwiches? I ain't stupid.” 

The irony was that he wasn’t smart, either. Not that Dom gave a damn about getting approval from anyone on what gender he dated.

Vee leaned in on the desk. “Know what I heard?”

There wasn’t a thing Vince could have heard. Spilner had arrived in California only weeks ago. It riled Dom worse that Yager would even attempt such an idiot ruse. “I could give--” Dom began.

“You know Kirkabee?”

The annoying drummer/street race groupie Vince had been jamming with for more than a few years.

“The other day he said he was on the street and saw Spilner get pulled over by some plain clothes pigs.”

Dom paused. “Pulled over? That’s bullshit.”

“No, man. He said they didn’t just pull him over, they made him get outta the truck and cuffed him.”

“See?” Dom scoffed. “Bullshit.” He turned his attention back to the catalog. “They don’t hassle people with looks like he’s got.”

“That’s why I’m tellin’ you. Even if he’d been blind drunk and rammed into their squad car, they most likely would a escorted him back into Harry’s truck with a pat on the ass. But, they didn’t. They put him in the backseat of one of their cars and drove off.”

Slamming the catalog shut, Dom stood up. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? He never said shit about getting hit up by any pigs.”

“Ain't many things it could mean,” Vince scowled. “He’s either a snitch or a cop.”

For one ugly second, Dom saw the keen logic of the assumption. Then fought to dismiss it. He thrust the phone at Vince. “Call Kirkabee,” he growled. “Tell him I wanna talk to him.”

~~~

Friday – May 5

They followed the F150 at a safe distance to an alley next to the nightclub, El Gato Negro. Cutting the headlights, Jesse parked between the industrial buildings.

“What the fuck would he be doing here?” Dom mumbled, peering through the windows of the Jetta outside the dark garage where Hector kept shop.

“I told you, man,” Vince growled as they got out of the car. “He’s scopin’ things. Lookin’ for evidence to narc out.”

“You’re wrong,” Dom insisted. “I’m sure he’s got a perfectly good explanation.”

From the trunk of the Jetta, Vince drew out his shotgun.

“What the fuck you think you’re gonna do with this?” Dom seized the barrel.

“What the rat deserves.”

Jesse threw both of them anxious looks.

“Shoot Spilner,” Dom said, “and you’ll be next, I promise.”

~~~

When Brian silently made his way down from the roof of the garage, Vince used the butt-end of the shotgun to stop him. The muted crack from the impact against his skull was enough to make Dom start and for good reason; Brian fell to the asphalt, out cold.

“You asshole!” Dom hissed, seizing the shotgun in Vince’s hold. “You trying to kill him? You didn’t have to hit him so hard!”

“Hey, you’re the one who told me not to shoot him.”

Down at the mouth of the alley by the club, the loud music and passing cars reminded them they might be spotted. “Come on,” Dom ordered. “Let’s get around to the other side of the building.”

Contemptuously, Vince made to seize Brian by the collar and drag him. Throwing Vince a dark look, Dom shoved him away, then knelt by Brian and lifted him. Except for the trouble of managing his long limbs, his weight posed no challenge to carry. Damn, did he look beautiful and vulnerable with his eyes shut and that long, slender neck exposed…

Behind the garage, Dom gently lay Brian down on the asphalt.

“Check him,” Vince warned. “See if he’s packin’.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Don’t be dumb, man. Check him.”

Unwillingly, Dom reached under the leather jacket to search. The feel of the sleek, lean pecs and sweet abs beneath the black t-shirt further distracted him. No weapon. Then Brian woke, recoiling.

“Dom,” he reacted on sight, then tried to get to his elbow. Judging by his wince, he was arrested by the pain in his head. “What the fuck…?”

Wanting to yield, Dom looked over the kid. There was no way Vee was right. According to Spilner’s driver’s license, he was 22—awfully young, not to mention, too innocent-appearing--to have pulled a scam like that off. Especially on Dom. “What’re you doing here?” Dom demanded.

Brian rubbed his head, ruffling his curls.

“I told you, he’s a goddamn snitch,” Vince growled, aiming the barrel at Brian.

“I just asked you a question,” Dom reiterated. “What are you doing here?”

Slowly, carefully, Brian sat up. The moment one of his hands was out of sight, Vince thrust the shotgun forward again. Instantly, Brian raised his hands in surrender.

Grabbing the barrel, Dom shot Vince a warning glare.

“What…What am I doing here?” Brian panted in pain. “Dom…I owe…I owe you 10-second car…What this is about--this is about Race Wars…”

Apparently unconvinced, Vince kicked him.

Dom checked a protest.

Recoiling again in pain, Brian went on. “I just went in there…and found out Hector’s gonna be running…three Honda Civics…with Spoon engines…On top of that, he just came into Harry’s…and ordered three T66 turbos…with NOS…and a MoTeC exhaust system…” Warily, he eyed Vince, expecting another kick.

“So, what’re you saying?” Dom pressed. “You’re gonna check everybody’s shit out, one garage after another?”

“Yeah,” Brian confirmed. “Because, Dom…You know I can’t lose again.”

“Fuck that!” Vince railed, cocking the rifle. “He’s a goddamn narc.”

Rising, Dom paced into the shadows. He circled back to stand over Brian, arms folded. “You a narc?”

“What?” Brian shook his head, wincing harder. “No way.”

“Friend a mine,” Vince contested, “said he saw you picked up by cops a coupla days after the race. You were cuffed and hauled in. Yet you were back at Harry’s the same day.”

Dom studied their quarry for signs of deception. “What was up with that?”

“That-that was nothing.” Though still panting, Brian easily met Dom’s gaze. “They pulled me over…started asking questions. If I was in Long Beach a few nights ago…I didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about…Maybe I matched the description of someone they were looking for…Man, I don’t know. They just let me go after a while. Didn’t explain shit.”

Matched the description? That didn’t sound plausible. There was no mistaking Spilner for anybody else in the world. Then again, police descriptions were pretty vague. A six-foot-plus, thin, blond, Caucasian Y-type with a red pickup. That would have been the extent of it. There had to be thousands of them driving around LA County. “You never mentioned it.”

“It was nothing, I told you. They haven’t hassled me since.”

At last, Dom gestured. “Come on. Let’s go for a ride.” Out of reflex, he caught one of Brian’s hands and helped him up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Vince snarled incredulously. “You believe him?”

“Let me handle it,” Dom said.

~~~

For the drive to Tran’s garage, Dom let Vince ride shotgun next to Jesse, and sat in back with Spilner. On the way, Dom looked to his companion. Usually, Jesse would blast tunes as he drove, but not that night. He liked Brian and had defended him against Vince’s accusation.

One thing German cars weren’t coveted for was sound-proofing. The engine and road noise provided cover while Dom leaned to Brian for a quiet exchange.

“I thought you said you got your period today. So, what’re you doing climbing buildings?”

Brian’s silence made Dom begin to rethink his verdict.

“What? Did you lie about that? Because right now, it kinda looks like you’re hiding something.”

“No,” Brian allowed. “I did get it.”

“And you’re voluntarily climbing buildings?”

“Yeah, so what? I told you why I’m out here. Before I do any more racing, I think I oughta know what I’m up against, you know?”

“You mean you don’t get cramps and all that?”

Before Brian could answer, Vince twisted back in his seat, glowering. “What’re you talkin’ to him for, Dominic? All he’s gonna do is give you bullshit.”

“Hey,” Dom snapped, “I told you to let me handle it.” 

~~~

Deftly, Brian scaled the iron fencing around Tran’s garage, then demonstrating further agility, managed both exit and entry by way of the roof. Prime skills as impressive as his could be a real asset to the Team. More so for someone who was allegedly on the rag. Dom couldn’t imagine Letty performing such maneuvers under those conditions without the accompaniment of a whole lot of choice bitching, and at a decidedly slower pace. 

So just when he’d accepted Brian’s word, Dom’s suspicion was once again aroused. For the time being, he let the others think he implicitly believed the kid. On their return to the alley where the F150 waited, however, Dom got out as well.

Immediately, Vince popped open his door. “I’m coming with you,” he announced, accurately assessing Dom’s doubts.

Firmly, Dom moved to close the door on Vince. “Let me try and set a few things straight with him first, all right?”

“I know just what, too,” Vince pushed.

“I said I’ll take care of it.” Dom bent down to address Jesse through the open window. “Take him home.”

With a nod, Jesse sped off, preventing Vince from posing any further argument.

~~~

“You lied,” Dom said flatly, riding shotgun in the F150 on the drive back to Echo Park.

“Huh?” Brian glanced at him.

“Is that what you were really doing? Looking for stolen property to report to the cops?”

“Hey, I just wanted to know what all they were driving. Serves the assholes right they got ripped off.”

“You don’t know who that guy was that Tran and his gang was putting the squeeze on?”

“How should I know? Someone who fucked ‘em over pretty bad, I guessed. After what Tran did to us the other night, that guy was lucky to be able to get out of there with a pulse.” Brian’s worried expression appeared genuine. Of course, with those disarming looks, it was almost impossible not to believe him.

“Doesn’t matter,” Dom dismissed. If Spilner honestly didn’t know, there was no point in saying too much. However, if he was lying about anything, it was best to proceed with caution. “Still, you lied about the time of the month, didn’t you? Not with the way you were jumping all over the place and climbing up and down walls like Spider Man.”

Gaze back on the road, Brian drove in silence a few blocks before answering. “Some months I get cramps. Most of the time not. When I do, it’s no big deal.”

Convinced, Dom breathed in relief. Actually, that was good to know. And evidently, Vee was letting his paranoid imagination get to him. 

~~~

Saturday – May 6 

With no classes to attend, Mia came to the shop ready and waiting. Strategically, she wore no bra under a ribbon-tie raspberry tank. She didn’t mind if the guys looked at her; it wouldn’t be for long. They knew what Dom would do to them just for that, so they sure weren’t about to gawp at her. She was dressing for Spilner. He knew very little about her brother’s myriad of despotic rules and she preferred it that way.

Evidently, Brian had had to go to work that morning, because he didn’t show up right away. While she went to search for a part, Jesse followed her to the computer. Beside her, he helped her mouse through their inventory.

With the usual noise echoing in the garage, Jesse addressed her privately. “You know he’s herm, don’t you?”

Focused on the search, Mia wasn’t particularly interested in who or whatever Jesse and the guys had been discussing before she came in. She pretended not to have heard him.

Jesse was persistent. “I said he’s herm.”

Quietly, Mia heaved. Jesse was obviously bucking for her attention. “Good for him,” she remarked absently. Whoever he was.

“I’m talkin’ about Spilner.”

Whoa. Mia’s hand froze on the mouse. She squinted at Jesse, whose gaze was still fixed on the screen. “Who told you that? Vince, I suppose,” she dismissed.

“Nope. Brian told me himself.”

For a few seconds, her brain went numb. It wasn’t like Jesse to invent gossip. “Oh,” she realized. “Real funny. Vince put you up to this.”

“Man, he don’t have the kind of money it would take to make me lie about something this earth-shattering.”

Kick-started, her brain came back to life all at once. “What? Wait, no the fuck way…”

“You think it was bullshit?” Jesse looked to her, suddenly sounding dubious. “It wasn’t like I even asked him; he just up and told me…”

Generally, people didn’t lie about a thing like that. Unless they were hiding the truth for a significant reason. And if they were, they sure wouldn’t volunteer the information. “But-but, he doesn’t dress like it…”

“No shit. I mean, it didn’t even occur to me.”

“But, he was coming onto me and he didn’t so much as hint about it. He would have told me then. Why would he tell you?”

“I dunno…. We were just talking…Talking about the Supra and shit, you know?”

Mia was growing impatient. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Look, it’s like he’s just kinda modest about it. That’s probably why he dresses full Y, you know? It wasn’t ‘til after he told me that I noticed both his ears are pierced. He just doesn’t wear earrings.”

Even if it didn’t all make sense, she felt a thrilling rush of excitement.

~~~

Monday – May 8

Standing in the kitchen at the FBI center of operations for the case, Brian became uncomfortable. A different discomfort, aside from the intermittent headache that had been nagging him since the Friday night he’d been caught pulling surveillance by Toretto’s Team. Brian felt the report was plenty solid, yet Tanner was questioning it, clearly unconvinced.

There were plenty of fuck-ups on the force--people who not only managed to keep their jobs through politics—but, who actually got promoted into ranking positions.

Tanner wasn’t one of those.

He had some thirty years of experience in the department and was damn good at it. He had that “gut instinct” finely honed and had learned how to balance all the biased politics along with the law with a great finesse. It was a relaxed, down-to-Earth finesse, too, and that made it even better. It was like he didn’t even know how good he was at it.

On the other hand, Bilkins lived up to the FBI reputation of being a self-aggrandizing asshole who considered the entire police force inept.

Yet for all Tanner’s experienced wisdom, Brian knew he was wrong. He had to be. Dominic Toretto was--well, he wasn’t at all like Tanner had him figured. Which was understandable; he hadn’t looked into Dominic’s big, beautiful, sexy eyes, hadn’t been kissed by that voluptuous, consuming mouth, hadn’t felt those massively strong arms, body, and legs crush him, hold him, or been overwhelmed by the sensation of that thick, powerful cock pounding in him as Dom drove them both toward mind-blowing orgasms. The hijackings were too anarchistic; only someone who either didn’t know or didn’t give a shit about the repercussions could be orchestrating them. Dom was nothing like that. He was way too knowledgeable, smart, and sensitive. Only there was no way in hell Brian could tell Tanner or Bilkins those things.

As expected of a fed, Bilkins was obsessed strictly with results, quality not withstanding. “My superiors are flying in from DC day after tomorrow. I want something to show. Now, we have a top echelon fence with a lube hose in his mouth, automatic weapons, a jacket-full of priors on every one of these Asian punks, a garage-full of DVD players, and generally psychotic behavior. Now, tell me why we shouldn’t move on Johnny Tran right now and see where we are when the dust settles?”

“Because,” Brian argued, “all we have is behavior. Let me get some hard evidence. What we got right now is only circumstan--”

“What we have right now,” Bilkins interrupted, “is probable cause and truckers arming themselves for some good old-fashioned vigilante mayhem.”

Tanner stepped in to mitigate. “Tell us about Hector, Brian.”

At the other end of the counter, Muse leaned. “Oh, Latinos with spear guns. Give me a break.”

It took some effort to ignore Muse’s unabashed bigotry. “Hector’s still working on his cars,” Brian pointed out. “And anyway, the tires don’t match.” He rubbed his aching head. “Will someone--? Look, I need a cigarette.”

“Get him a cigarette,” Bilkins ordered Muse.

As the superior officer, Tanner was quick to exercise his authority. Like all ex-users, though, he wouldn’t tolerate laxity in others. “Don’t get him a cigarette,” he intervened. Then castigated Brian. “I thought you quit.”

“Yeah, I did,” Brian admitted. But fuck it. “Just give me a cigarette.”

“Give him a cigarette,” Bilkins reiterated.

“No!” Tanner barked. “Tell me about Toretto.”

So Brian was supposed to put up with a headache, a nicotine fit, and Muse’s objectionable, asshole personality. At least Brian’s period had ended. “Well, I told you. I think he’s too controlled for this. Going suicidal on semi-trucks? No way. I mean maybe his buddy, Vince, but he’s too stupid to pull it off.”

As if he hadn’t conveyed his ignorance strongly enough, Muse somehow felt compelled to put another two cents of it in. “I think the kid sister’s blurring your vision.”

Brian cut him a sharp look. “Would it be that much trouble for you to shift that dead weight in your skull out of neutral for once, before you open your mouth?”

“Don’t pretend you haven’t been making moves on Toretto’s sister,” Muse goaded. “She’s one hot piece of ass.”

“Fuck you!” Brian moved to confront Muse.

Instantly, Tanner was between them. He held Brian off. “Knock if off! What? You going native on me, Brian?”

With a warning glare at Muse, Brian refocused his attention on the case.

“Have you read Toretto’s file, lately?” Tanner asked.

“Yeah,” Brian said. “I memorized it.”

“Yeah, well read it again. Better still, take a look at these.” At the opposite counter, Tanner opened an interoffice manila envelope and began drawing out photos. “Remember that guy he nearly beat to death? Toretto did this with a three-quarter inch torque wrench.”

The eight by tens revealed a victim with severe contusions and stitched lacerations about his face and head. One eye was swollen completely shut. 

The thought that Dom could be that passionate was surprisingly exhilarating. “I’m gonna need a few more days.” Reassuringly, he patted Tanner’s shoulder.

~~~

Standing behind Brian in the shower at his apartment, Dom took pleasure in looking over his boy. That ass, those lean, supple muscles…If anything, he was the ultimate tall, beautiful blond. Well, except for the vicious scar over his left elbow. Dom had noticed it before, but hadn’t asked. Things felt different with Letty gone. He suddenly had room to explore his new relationship.

Straightening, Dom stepped closer and took Brian’s left elbow. “What happened here?”

Briefly, he glanced down his arm, which Dom still held. Slippery and wet, he easily pulled free. Then mumbled, “Nothin’. Busted it.”

Simple fractures didn’t constitute long, ugly scars. “Must a been bad.”

Since Brian didn’t say anything more, Dom had to prompt while soaping down his partner’s arms. “Does it hurt?”

“No, not really.”

Running his hand over the joint, Dom didn’t just feel the bones of a normal elbow. His probing made Brian start and withdraw slightly. “You got hardware in there.”

That finally got a response. “It was busted in pieces. They had to pin it all back together.”

Sympathetically, Dom frowned. He shifted his strokes to Brian’s back. “How’d it happen?”

“…Wiped out in a black 1970 Stingray…A big block 454.”

Dom was impressed. “No shit. You had a 454?”

“…I only wished…”

“You wiped out somebody’s 454?” God, that ass was sweet. Dom luxuriated over the feel of the bone and supple muscle beneath his hands. “Must’ve been a bitch to explain…”

“It was one of the cars I boosted…Me and my friend…We boosted a lot of cars…The Stingray was like a trophy…We’d been eyeing it around town a while…Must have been reported almost immediately, ‘cos the cops got on us pretty quick…We were just kids…drunk, stoned, speeding…”

Because Brian had initially lied about having served time, it made sense why he was hesitant to discuss the incident. “Was that when you went to juvie?”

Brian nodded.

“How old were you?” Dom tried to recall the year listed on the juvenile record to calculate against Brian’s year of birth.

“I’d just turned fifteen…”

“If you’d stolen a lot of cars by the time you barely turned fifteen, you must have started boosting when you were ten. Why’d you lie about your bust? You wanted to impress me, that would have been a great way to do it.”

Though Dom really didn’t want to distract Brian from finally divulging some history, there was no way to resist lathering down the swell of his ass, progressing in between the cheeks, to the hard muscle of his rear entry, to the cleft of his vulva. Sure enough, he opened his legs and quit talking.

Dom had to stop himself. He put his arms around Brian, regrouping his soaping strategy to his partner’s sleek, rock hard chest and belly. “You got some serious nuts on you. You must have been the one driving, since it was your left arm that took the hit; how’d you wipe out?”

Again, Brian hesitated. “I wanted to drive while the cops were on our ass. Not ‘cos I thought I could do a better job—just ‘cos I wanted the thrill. We’d learned to switch places all the time while we were driving and had it down…Somehow, I just lost it…I don’t remember what happened. My friend said I glanced back at the wrong time…came on a curve driving too fast…Hit the sand on the shoulder and skidded out…Rolled like three times…”

“Ouch.” Dom winced.

“I never felt like it was anything to brag about. More like one of those stupid things you do when you’re a kid...Come on; water’s gonna get cold if we don’t get out of here.” Brian turned to Dom to wash him down.

Bad as the bust and crack-up must have been, Dom knew those couldn’t have been the worst of it for Brian—the reason he was so closed-mouth about the incident. His attitude was apparent by the loose hang of his cock, despite Toretto’s intimate handling. Jacking a rare 454 Corvette Stingray was so much reason to brag it should have overshadowed the ordeal of an arrest and broken bones in anybody, let alone a resilient teenager. 

A towel wrapped around his hips, Toretto took a seat on the corner of the foot of the bed and yanked Brian close by the towel similarly wrapped around him. Taking the tucked edges of the towel, Dom began to tenderly kiss the sweet muscles of Brian’s abs. “They hurt you in lockup, didn’t they?” Dom surmised.

It was a moment before Brian responded. “Nah…I never was in lockup.”

“What?” Confused, Dom stopped his kissing and looked up at Brian’s eyes. “But, you went to juvie.”

Spilner blinked meaningfully. “I was stuck in the hospital for a while after the crash. It wasn’t 'til the next week after they released me that I even got booked. Then the doctor had them postpone the arraignment and detention hearing so I had some time to recover. I’m not sure how it all happened--I was pretty much out of it through the whole thing--but, when I finally went in to see the judge, he told me that in view of the fact that it was my first offense--on record, anyways--and after everything I’d already suffered in the crash, I was awarded an HOP--home probation--for the two years.”

“Wait, I thought you just broke your arm.”

“I was a little more messed up than that.”

“What else happened?” Dom hadn’t seen any other scars on that perfect body, but he started to search with some concern in case he’d missed anything.

“I had a bad concussion, cuts, scrapes…I really don’t want to talk about it.” Joining Dom on the bedside, Brian nudged him close for a kiss on the mouth and took his jaw. This quickly arrested Dom’s inventory. “I’m okay now. About as okay as I can be, all right?” 

Studying Brian’s face a moment, Dom nodded faintly. He wanted to say how relieved he was to hear that Spilner had never been incarcerated anywhere, but it was better not to be so direct. The truth was, there would have been no hope that he wouldn’t have been constantly sexually molested and brutalized the whole two years. 

~~~

Thursday – May 11 

When Mia arrived at the market from school, Dom was in the office doing paperwork. After she took care of the customers present, he called her. “Mia.” Not looking back, he continued, “I need you to do something.”

After some long and hard deliberating since Letty’s departure and her brother’s evasiveness about it, Mia hadn’t been able to shake a lingering degree of uncertainty about the whole situation. Taking the cash register key with her, she entered the screened office and waited just inside the gate, eyeing her brother. “What is it?”

“We got a hot tip for next Tuesday night. I need you to keep Spilner occupied.”

She cleared her throat. “Me?”

That made him look to her. He was amused. “Well, yeah.”

Keeping an eye on the market floor, she approached his desk. “That’s kind of an odd request, isn’t it? First, you know how I feel about those jobs. And second, are you really asking me to spend an evening all alone with Spilner? Without you and your baseball bat anywhere around in case he opens a door for me or holds my chair? I forget the tape measure so I can't be sure to establish the requisite twenty-three-and-a-half inches between us at all times?”

He had the nerve to chuckle. “That’s a good suggestion. I think I’ll get tape measures for both of you.”

“Well, now I’m not so sure whom you want kept from whom,” she went on. A couple of steps from his desk, she stopped. “Before she left, Letty told me what all happened. What you two fought about.”

Sobering a little, Dom put down his pen. “Oh, yeah? What did she say?”

“That’s an interesting question.” Mia paused for effect. “From what she said, you really, really wouldn’t want me ‘occupying’ Spilner.” She folded her arms. “Is it true?”

Angling his chair towards her, he leaned back in it just enough to make it creak slightly. “Then you know why I’m not worried about having you two spend an evening alone together.”

Outraged, she gathered herself and fled back out to the counter to keep from slapping the shit out of him, punching him, kicking him—or maybe grab the blackjack from under the counter and use that on his arrogant ass. She’d taken comfort in the knowledge that in general, Jesse was by far the most honest of the two when it came to the Team, and Letty had always been a sneak and a liar ever since she and Mia had gone to grade school together. With their track records, there wasn’t even a contest. Her lousy brother, however, had just turned everything upside down. She loved the idea that Brian was exactly what Jesse had told her. That made the already unbelievably good-looking blond even more attractive. Most of the herms she’d gotten to know were more understanding and sensitive than their full Y brothers.

Shattered, Mia unlocked the register, punched open the till, and began counting the money. 

It was a couple of moments before she heard Dom’s footsteps behind her. “Look, Mia…I didn’t expect things to go this way…”

“Fuck it,” she said dryly. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

“We got to ‘cos obviously you’re not cool with it.”

“No, I’m way, way beyond ‘not cool’. I’ve had it with you. I’m gonna get another job and move the fuck out.”

“Come on, Mia. That’s the last thing I want, and you know it.”

“Like hell. You’d been looking for an excuse to keep Brian from coming around. Just because Vee didn’t like him wasn’t enough reason to kick him out. You didn’t want me and Brian to get too close. Heaven forbid if he should ask me out. It was so obvious what you were doing. The way Vee had been harassing Brian every time he came into the market, yet you didn’t say a word to remind Vee that you were gonna lodge a boot up his ass the next time he was rude to any of our customers. You were just waiting for Brian to get sick of it and take him out. That way you’d have a perfect excuse to throw him out if he showed up at the market again.

“Then, you thought that was the end of it, but Spilner wasn’t the coward you figured on; far from it. Instead he had the balls to challenge your ass on the street. And it turned out, he was actually more honorable, more of a gentleman than you’d ever expected. Even after the rude way you’d ridiculed him in front of everybody the night of the race, he still had the moral integrity to go out of his way to save your ass from getting picked up by the police.

“At that point, you realized you had to do something rash to keep us apart, and moved in on him. And that was really a stretch for you because I’ve never known you to be attracted to guys.”

In silence, he studied her. “Here you are, my own sister, yet I’m amazed at how little you know me.”

“Oh, so now I’m stupid,” she snapped.

“Like I’d be paying your way through med school, if you were.”

That stopped her momentarily. Then she resumed counting the change. “You know goddamn well you orchestrated the whole thing to satisfy your egocentric, control-freak fetish. You’ve always been an inconsiderate prick with an over-inflated superiority complex.”

It pissed her off even worse that he didn’t sound remotely provoked. “Believe it or not, I’m not out to sabotage your life. Yeah, this whole thing was totally unexpected by all of us, but I think it worked out for the best. If things had gone on like they were, I hate to think how devastated you would have been when you found out he’s herm after you started dating.”

Starting, she missed the drawer, spilling dimes all over the floor. When she quickly bent to retrieve them, she was thankful her hair curtained her flustered flush. Oh, God. She hadn’t considered that aspect. Of course, it worked both ways. There she was, accusing Dom of harboring homosexual tendencies if he was interested in Brian, yet hadn’t considered that he was bound to call her on the same, should she admit maintaining an interest in him. Shit.

Rounding the counter, Dom haltingly crouched down to help her collect the coins. “See? I knew you’d freak when you found out.”

Puzzled, Mia glanced to him, wondering for a fleeting moment if something was wrong with him. Anger quickly swept over her again and she threw her hair in the way, to avoid him.

“So, will you do it?”

Help facilitate another hi-jacking and escort the gorgeous guy who was supposed to be Mia’s boyfriend? Not on her lousy brother’s life.

~~~

Though Dom said nothing to Spilner about the conversation with Mia, somehow, he seemed to sense it was time to mediate things with her. Ever since Letty had gone, Mia’s attitude toward Spilner had been going downhill. She stopped working on the Supra altogether, avoiding Spilner, and hardly spoke to Dom. 

Come dinnertime, she showed up less regularly. Though she’d bring food for everyone, it was only Leon, Jesse, and Vince, she’d fraternize with, otherwise ignoring Dom and Brian. 

“I know Letty told her about us,” Brian said at the garage over the sandwiches Mia had wordlessly left them. “I think I oughta talk to her about it, you know?”

“And what are you gonna say?” Dom posed. “You still wanna take her out?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Brian frowned in consternation, looking after Mia who’d paused on her way out, for a brief exchange with Vee.

“Then what do you gotta say to her that’s so important?”

“It’s just that she’s your sister and I don’t wanna be enemies with her. I’ve got all the respect in the world for her. She’s obviously pissed at me and I’d like to straighten things out with her.”

Releasing his breath, Dom rubbed an eyebrow with the back of his thumb. “Look.” He glanced around them again to make sure no one was close by. “She’s upset about us, yeah, but I think she’s even more upset about the fact that you’re herm and you came onto her without telling her. You’re right; Letty did tell her about us, but apparently, she left that part out. So I told Mia the rest.”

Eyes widening, Brian’s mouth moved, but no words came out.

“Don’t worry, I was gentle about it.” They both watched her get in her Acura Integra parked just outside the bay door. “I knew she couldn’t handle a thing like that. And just like I thought, she’s proving she can’t.”

“I wasn’t trying to…I didn’t mean…” Brian suddenly got pissed. “Fuck!” Forgetting about his waiting dinner, he dove back into the engine compartment of the Supra.

Whatever that meant, Dom didn’t like it. It was the first time he’d ever seen Brian angry. Dom leaned into the engine compartment, as well. “What? You didn’t want her to know?”

“Man…It’s just that she’s your sister. You know she’s thinking I just used her to get to know you, then dumped her. I’m sure she’s more pissed off at me about that than anything else. I didn’t even consider she might not have realized I’m herm. When I meet people for the first time, I don’t shake their hands and announce it, even when I’m not dressed so it’s obvious. I never had a problem with my friends’ families before, you know? We’re always cool. This is just fucked up, you know?”

Reassured, Dom touched the small of Brian’s back. “Lemme get her to chill some, then you can take her out to dinner or whatever and smooth everything out, all right?” Though it wasn’t the time to discuss it, Toretto was piqued by the insinuation Brian had just made that suggested that sometimes he dressed gender-evident.

~~~

Friday -- May 12 

“You hungry?” While Brian worked under the dash of the Supra, Dom leaned into the cockpit.

Brian hesitated, waiting.

“It’s Friday; how ‘bout we go out for dinner tonight?”

“Go out?” Apparently unconvinced, Brian resumed his work.

“Well, sorta. I got something for you to try out.”

~~~

Puzzled, Brian drove straight to his duplex in the F150 with no time to exchange it for his 3000 GT from Operations. He’d been given the dubious instructions of scrubbing off the dirt and grease from the garage and fixing himself up “nice” for the evening. The only further information Dom provided was that he would be at the apartment in a couple of hours or so.

Exactly what “nice” was supposed to mean was what threw Brian. If they were going to some expensive restaurant, it would suck to walk in underdressed. On the other hand, Dom didn’t come off like the kind of guy who’d give a damn for throwing money around on haute cuisine. In the off chance that that was the kind of evening he had planned, Brian was going to have to go straight to his real apartment and get ready there. Problem was it was very doubtful he’d make it back to the apartment complex within the allotted time. On the other hand, he enjoyed that kind of challenge.

At his duplex, after a shower, Brian shaved for the first time in more than a week. It took at least that long to grow the stubble he was striving for to impress his supervisors with his ability to appear masculine. Then he put on a fashionable pair of jeans, dress shoes, and one of his nicer dress shirts, tucked in, with a belt. Rather than wear a tie, he left the top buttons of his shirt undone. He would have liked to wear one of his leather jackets, but deciding better, slipped one of his reasonably decent sports jackets on over that. 

Fighting to keep from panting, Brian opened the door of the department-provided apartment only three minutes after returning, when Dom arrived.

To Brian’s relief, his caller wasn’t decked out in an Armani suit. Not that that mattered, because he still looked amazing. His gray cotton, sports pants were cut to flatter. The half-unbuttoned, tight, black, heavy gauze shirt he wore revealed a titillating display of breastbone and mouth-watering cleavage between his pecs. Adding to the surprise was the fact that he carried some grocery bags.

Stunned, Brian blinked and let his guest enter, instantly helping with the packages. Damn, he smelled good. “What’s this? I thought we were going out to dinner.”

Ignoring the comment, Dom drew out a tray of fresh scallops. “Is that the best you could do? I told you to get wear something nice.”

“What?” Brian glanced down at his clothes. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Nothing. If you’re on your way to a job interview.”

“Look, you weren’t specific about formality. If you’d told me we were cooking, I would have had a clue, you know?”

“We’re not cooking; I am. Scaloppini Alfredo.”

Another pleasant surprise. Brian smiled. More useful background on Toretto’s personality—for the investigation, of course. “You cook Italian?”

“I learned from my family, what do you think?” Dom checked the other bags until he found what he was looking for: A small, flocked jewelry box. “Oh, I got these for you.”

“What?” Brian narrowed his eyes.

Not waiting, Dom opened it; inside was a pair of sparkling gold topaz stones in shiny, polished, gold stud settings. “You said you had no earrings.” He was matter-of-fact. “These’ll match your hair. And they’ll go with any color you wear.”

Moved, Brian faltered. He didn’t know what to do or say. As a cop, he knew he couldn’t accept them. Except he wasn’t supposed to be a cop, so he didn’t know what to do. “Thanks. I mean, they’re really cool, but I don’t got nothing for--”

“I didn’t buy them to get a present out of you,” Dom said pointedly. “I got ‘em ‘cos you gotta keep something in your ears so they don’t close down. It was either these or a couple of cable key rings, but these matched your hair better. Now go put on a dress or a skirt and the earrings.”

“Wait a minute,” Brian laughed. “First of all, how do you know so much about having pierced ears? You don’t got ‘em.”

“Mia’s had pierced ears since she was a baby. And I been asking her questions, ‘cos I’m thinking about getting mine pierced.”

While Dom went about unpacking the groceries, Brian watched him, picturing him with earrings. “Wow. That’d be hot.”

“You think so?”

“Way. But look, I’m not sure I should take--”

“Would you stop arguing and go get dressed already?” Dom tried to steer him towards the bedroom.

“Actually, I don’t have any dresses or skirts.”

Evidently taken aback, Dom paused. Then he went ahead and pressed Brian into the bedroom. In there, he began to look in the nearly empty closet. “Are you serious? Not a single one?”

For his cover, Brian was supposed to have played full male. No matter what, that was the only kind of attire he was thereby permitted for the stake-out. He had to think fast. “I didn’t bring much when I left Arizona. I pretty much had to buy everything new after I got here.”

Turning to the chest of drawers, Dom briefly rifled through the also near-empty drawers. There were only some t-shirts, a few pairs of pants, and boxer briefs in them. “You mean you don’t like wearing dresses? Is that it?”

“It’s not that. I just couldn’t bring that much with me. All I had was the Eclipse and with a NOS system in back, there isn’t room for a lot of luggage and stuff, you know?”

“No, I guess not. There’s nothing in here. How can you live like this? I think it’s time you went clothes shopping.”

Watching Dom bend over the drawers had given Brian a mesmerizing view of that muscular ass and thighs and the view when he turned around was just as enticing. The heavy bulge, the glimpse of awesome pectoral cleavage…Brian had to tear his gaze away to keep from being rude. “I can't afford that right now. Soon as I find a better paying job.”

“I’m sure I can hook you up with something a lot better. Tell you what. I’m gonna go start dinner. In the meantime, shave your legs and for now, we’ll just make due with what you got. Put on a pair of those knit sports pants—no underwear or I’ll reach down your waistband and rip ‘em off. I like the shirt you got on—just unbutton it. And lose the office shoes. I like you barefoot.”

~~~

The aroma of homemade Italian food welcomed Brian when he stepped into the hallway. Okay, it wasn’t his idea not to wear anything beneath the sports pants, because his anticipation was going to show. Even though Dom had been surprisingly intrigued and appreciative of Brian’s hardware from day one, it wouldn’t be polite.

The cook had brought his own chef’s apron, which unfortunately covered some of the view. Ready to assist, Brian donned his own apron for more reasons than to spare his clothes, then stepped beside Dom at the counter.

The first thing Toretto did was check for the earrings. “Bellissimo,” he commented, kissing his fingers with Italian approval.

With as little time as Brian spent at the place, there wasn’t much in the refrigerator. He only kept enough on hand to make it appear as though it really was his residence and a few things that wouldn’t spoil, so he had something to throw together if he should get hungry when he had to be there. He finished up the salad and prepared the garlic bread while Dom brought the pasta and sauce to perfection. 

That impressed Dom. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook. Other than eggs, toast, and coffee.”

“Just some basic stuff, you know. A guy’s gotta learn how to cook some things or die of hunger.”

“Yeah, but it’s amazing how many people would rather eat cornflakes and McDonald’s every day rather than learn their way around a kitchen.”

“Well, I’m no master chef or nothin’.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that.” Dom held up another few strands of pasta to Brian for his opinion. “You’re way too skinny for anyone to believe you can do a lot more than fix a cup of coffee.”

“Shit, I’m never home to learn much more. Why do you think my refrigerator is so empty? This is amazing. What brand of pasta do you use?”

“Homemade. Mia and I make our own. Mm. I’ll show you how, next time.”

~~~

Just watching the kid set the table was a delectable mind fuck. The apron ties held his shirttails up enough to show off the way the soft knit of his sports pants draped over his tight, little ass. Then, while he broke open the wine and served it, Dom brought the food to the table and took off his own apron. He’d also worn nothing under his pants, having meant for his hard-on to make itself known.

It was cute how he had to coax Brian out of the apron he’d put on. Sure enough, his healthy piece tented the front of his pants at times while he struggled not to look at Dom. Both modesty and comfort were no doubt the reasons why Brian chose to wear pants with plenty of crotch room. Hence, that was how he managed to hide it all, most of the time. With any arousal, though, there wasn’t any hiding it for nothing—particularly in soft knit pants like those. Once out of the apron, he made an effort to stay in his seat as much as he could so the table would shield his lap from view.

“What’re you so shy about?” Dom teased as he served Brian. “You know you’re fucking beautiful, don’t you?”

In answer, Brian took another swallow of wine.

Despite the alarms that went off every time they made love, Dom couldn’t resist the kid. If he’d just been beautiful, that alone would have made it hard as hell to stay away. No, he had to be sharp, charming, polite, demure—every goddamn fetching human quality there was. Qualities anyone would die for in a partner. Qualities that were pretty much the polar opposite of had been Dom’s experience up until then and hadn’t even thought to want until goddamn Spilner came along.

He could have at least been a lousy lover. With the way he acted, he should have at least been cock-shy. But, he wasn’t. The only cock he seemed shy about was his own and that wasn’t exactly consistent, either.

Forsaking dinner, he responded to Dom’s kissing without hesitation. No, he didn’t just like it, he opened his mouth, let Dom press him into the wall, then seized his hips in place so their erections ground madly against each other. Then let Dom drop their pants and bend him over the table. As requested, those long, outrageously sexy legs were like silk. 

And Jesus, that ass. Creamy smooth, divinely shapely, and sweeter than the finest dolcetti. It was obvious the kid didn’t have a clue. He lay still without protest while Dom sensuously spilled cooling fettuccine Alfredo between those cheeks and let it spill down to the modest, mildly gaping vulva to the taut, well-filled, blushing sac at the edge of the table.

Even Brian’s soft moans and gasps were criminally sexy. Teamed with the way he spread his legs, tilted his hips, and spilled lubrication, silently begging for more, he was beyond irresistible. There was no mistaking that he wanted every lapping inch of tongue all up and down his cleft to his generous set of jewels. When Dom realized Brian was subtly grinding into the table, he stood and yanked those little hips up to prevent his lover’s premature satisfaction.

Luxuriously slick from Dom’s tongue and the spill of nectar from desperate arousal, it was nothing less than a religious experience to slide into the blindingly narrow slit. That made Brian’s breathy panting go up a few octaves. It seemed like he froze a millisecond just before he caught up with Dom’s rhythm. Already, the exquisite vagina was throbbing with the kind of strength that only a masc could possess. Table or not, Brian fucked it to climax, which Dom felt by way of those contracting muscles on his cock in a way that every blessed essence in heaven couldn’t rival for pleasure.

~~~

Turning onto his back on the table, Brian was ready to read Dom the Riot Act. Not that Brian enjoyed lying in the slippery mess from the Alfredo sauce and his own warm semen, but the issue was too important. Before he could say a word, Dom was over him, those full lips on his, crushing him in those strong, encompassing arms, and with that, Brian suddenly found he didn’t care about protesting any more. With only one glass of wine, there was no way in hell he was that drunk, so what the fuck…?

~~~

They lay on the bed in the soft lamplight. Instead of feeling panic or worry, Brian had a leg hooked over Dom while mouthing those beautiful pecs and sucking the nipples. Dom ran his fingers through Brian’s curls, encouraging his actions.

At length, Brian murmured, “You know, we shouldn’t have done that.”

“Are you kidding?” Dom sounded pleasantly amused. “Don’t worry about the table; I’ll clean up.”

“I’m not talking about the table. When you got out of Lompoc, did you test?”

“Oh, that. Yeah. I’ve never been better.”

“I’m not just talking about AIDS.”

“Neither am I.”

Considerably relieved, Brian worked his way up towards Dom’s neck and jaw. “Great. Except we still gotta be careful ‘cos I’m not on anything.”

Getting on his elbows, Dom halted Brian’s ministrations. “What’re you thinking? Why haven’t you done anything about this by now? I mean, I know we’ve been using protection, but this was bound to happen. You should have said something about this a while back so we could have taken care of it already.”

Not having expected a reaction like that from Dom, Brian didn’t have a slick response composed in advance. There was absolutely nothing about the truth he could relay, so he had to think fast. “I really haven’t had any kind of chance to. You know I haven’t even been living here in LA long and I sure don’t got any medical insurance, working at Harry’s. I’d have to go to a county clinic, and I don’t got time to sit around for hours waiting to be seen.”

Evidently, Dom was convinced. He deliberated in silence a moment. “Well, we’re gonna have to do something. I’ll get the number at the OB/GYN department at the UCLA Medical Center and you make an appointment. I’ll loan you the money to pay for everything up front, and you can pay me back when--”

“I can’t do that, man,” Brian quickly interrupted. “Doctors are expensive. Then they always want to do all kinds of tests on new patients that cost a lot of money, plus there’s the price of the medication they put me on. Hell, no way. It’s my responsibility to take care of this, so don’t even think about it.”

Lying back, Dom pulled Brian down again, as well. “The way I see it, I’m definitely half-responsible. If we weren’t sleeping together, then you wouldn’t need no contraception. If you’ve been sleeping with anybody else, you’d already be on something that he’d better be sharing the responsibility for. If I don’t pay for this for you until you get insurance and all that, then my only option would be not to sleep with you. I don’t consider that an option. I can probably get you a better job, even, but I sure as hell won’t wait until your financial situation improves before we sleep together again.”

~~~

Saturday – May 13

Saturday mornings, Harry didn’t open before noon and Sundays, not at all. On those occasions, Dom and Brian had more time to spend together. Along with the groceries he’d bought for dinner the night before, Dom had also picked up some breakfast supplies. Though it didn’t matter to Dom whether or not Brian really could cook or not, he made him prove it by making something more complicated than eggs or crust-trimmed toast that morning.

With a little persuasion, Dom coaxed Brian into putting on a pair of mid-thigh shorts instead of pants, to display those long, gorgeous, smooth legs. Watching him work with bare arms and legs stirred Dom all over again. And the earrings looked downright dazzling. He was reminded of last night’s dinner. Fettuccine Alfredo had never tasted that damn good before. He couldn’t help but entertain similar thoughts about breakfast.

Behind Brian, Dom tactilely explored the delectable, sleek contour of muscle in those thin, but strong upper arms. “You know,” Dom began, “it’s been puzzling me. Why is it your driver’s license says you’re male?”

“Oh, yeah,” Brian laughed. “I guess you can’t find out everything on the internet. Somebody fucked up at the MVD way back when I first got my driver’s license. I tried to get that fixed for years, but never got anywhere.”

“Did they fuck up your names, too? One of those has got to be wrong.”

“Tell me about it. I was even more pissed when I saw what they’d done to my middle name. If they were gonna make it a guy’s name, it could have at least been something cool.”

“What is your middle name?”

Brian hesitated. “Arielle.”

“Arielle.” Dom echoed, considering. “I like that,” he decided and brushed his lips over Brian’s bare shoulder. “Brian Arielle…They took such a beautiful name and trashed it…I’m gonna make sure that gets fixed.”

~~~

It seemed it was time that Dom surrendered further information before expecting Brian to blindly give up any more trust. There was no better way for Dom to illustrate this than with a key element about his past. It wasn’t something he ever discussed with anyone outside of his family or the Team. And even with them, he seldom did. Because Brian would have to go to work afterwards, he changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and took out the earrings, which he said were too nice for Harry’s shop, before Dom drove them to the house.

The garage in back really was in need of a paint job, Dom was reminded as he unlocked, then slid open the door. The gleaming wax job and chrome on the 1970, black Charger reflected the indirect cast of sunlight from outside.

“Wow,” Brian remarked, clearly in awe.

A multitude of memories flooded Dom’s thoughts as he studied the car. As recent as it had been since he’d last washed, waxed, and fueled it, it was almost as if he was seeing it for the first time in years. Something serious had changed from that short time ago.

“Me and my dad built her,” he began. “Seems like a hundred years ago. Nine hundred horses of Detroit muscle.” He invited Brian to look her over, all around. “Know what she ran in Palmdale?”

“What?”

“Nine seconds flat.”

“No shit,” Brian murmured, shaking his head.

“My dad was driving…With so much torque, the chassis twisted coming off the line. He barely kept it on the track.” 

In no less awe, Brian shook his head again. “So what’s your best time?”

“I’ve never driven her.”

“What?” Brian glanced up. “Why not?”

Dom looked away. “Scares the shit out of me.” On the back walls of the garage, he and his dad had proudly tacked up posters from the races he’d participated in. The trophies had eventually been moved from the house to shelves in the garage. “That’s my dad right there. He was coming up in the pro-stock car circuit.”

With evident interest, Brian went to get a closer look. “Now I’m really impressed.”

“Last race of the season, a guy named Kenny Linder came up from inside the final turn and clipped his bumper. Put him into the wall at one-hundred and twenty.” Dom wandered toward the open door. “I watched my father burn to death. I remembered hearing him scream. The people that were there, though…they said he died before the tanks blew.” He looked out into the sunlight again, at the cooling Mazda on the driveway. “They said it was me who was screaming.”

“Man.” Brian stepped up beside Dom.

“I saw Linder about a week later,” Dom continued. “I had a wrench and I hit him, and I didn’t intend to keep hitting him. But, the only thing that stopped me was that I couldn’t lift my arm any more…” He turned his gaze back to the reflection in the mirror finish of the Charger and saw that Brian was still close. “He’s a janitor at a high school…Has to take the bus to work every day. They banned me from the tracks for life. 

“I don’t make excuses for myself. I don’t pretend I would’ve done anything differently. I learned to live my life a quarter mile at a time. All the rest—the mortgage, the store, the Team, Letty…The only thing I looked forward to were those ten seconds or less.”

~~~

Fuck Tanner and Bilkins. Yeah, it looked like Brian was courting termination from the Racer’s Edge, a particularly reckless move when the prospect of medical insurance was at stake. In fact, he was courting termination from the PD, but he didn’t give a damn at that point. The lie he’d had to insult Dom with about his middle name only fueled his defiance.

Instead of heading back to the apartment for the F150 to go to work, Brian practically pushed Dom into the house on the premise of getting a cold drink. In front of the refrigerator, Brian arrested Dom’s beverage inventory with a kiss. A kiss that drew Dom out of the frigid draft, from the utility room, and into the kitchen.

Toretto was fucking amazing. Nothing like the dissociative sociopath Bilkins and Tanner had him figured for. No, what he possessed was a strength of character that was damn rare. It wasn’t surprising even trained professionals couldn’t recognize it. 

With a ripped body that wouldn’t stop, phenomenal charisma and looks, and character like that, there was no way in hell Brian could resist him. Taking Dom’s hand, Brian yanked him towards the front of the house, to the stairs. Only then did he remember why they never had trysts there.

Halting, Brian looked to Dom in mild alarm. Quietly, he asked, “Where’s Mia?”

“Saturdays she usually goes shopping. Her car isn’t here, so that’s probably where she’s at.”

Even though it was the first time Brian had ever been in Toretto’s bedroom, he didn’t care about checking it out. There was a king size bed, and that was really all that mattered. On it, their fevered kissing got hotter and more desperate by the second. They each struggled to undress the other, first. 

Once he’d stripped Dom of his vest, Brian had to force his partner to lie back on the bed to tug off the boots and pants. Naked underneath, Dom’s thick cock stood out. With Brian out of his t-shirt, Dom tried sitting up to do likewise with his jeans. Arresting him, Brian undid his own pants, then pressed Dom back again by crawling onto the bed over him.

There was nothing Brian wanted more than to fuck the hell out of Toretto like there was no tomorrow. 

~~~

The very feel of Brian’s mouth on Dom’s body made him shudder. By the time Brian got down to Dom’s cock, he couldn’t wait any more and tried to steer those little hips into place to drive himself up that divine slit. Brian, resisted however. There was no way Dom wanted Brian’s body out of touching distance, so he did something bold and prompted him to sixty-nine.

Though Dom had never had sex like that with a guy, Brian was so damn appetizing, it was a challenge not to want to eat every inch of him. In getting on his spread knees, the strong pussy gaped slightly, the sweet rear entry was exposed, and the hefty nuts were well-defined in their pouch from arousal. 

Then there was that cock. Like the rest of him, it was off the charts. Becoming increasingly erect, it swung imposingly beneath him. It was a daunting piece of dick for anybody’s mouth who didn’t have experience at that sort of thing.

For then, the pussy was so tempting, Dom couldn’t help but pull Brian down to spread those lips and eat ravenously. The reward was incredible; not only in taste and the well of honey, but by Brian’s deep-throated responsive reactions. The way the kid worked his throat, tongue, and hand was stratospherically criminal. Way too distracted, Dom had to stop and pant, racing toward orgasm. Still, he was aware of the instinctive, but restrained movement of Brian’s hips, and felt when that big cock thrust between his collar bones, against his breastbone. While Dom was in the haze of impending climax, Brian suddenly scrambled off. He turned around and got back on the bed, knees between Dom’s.

The first thing that brought Dom back to reality was the sight of that long piece, fully erect in Brian’s hand while he wet the head and long shaft, using the sparkling lube from behind his taut sac. What he had seemed so matter-of-fact to him. It was like he didn’t even realize he was exceptional. Lowering his hips into position, he thrust till he found his target, which took a couple of painful attempts. Unfortunately, he succeeded all too soon, then rammed in, every bit like the male animal he was.

Jesus, he had to be kidding. It was a damned exciting idea, but only in theory. Slippery as Brian’s glans felt, that didn’t much help the magnitude of the discomfort as he entered. Unwilling to experience any more, Dom seized Brian’s upper arms. “Wait!”

Pupils dilated against the ice blue backdrop of his eyes, panting heavily, the sight of him in such a state of desire was surprisingly intoxicating. 

“You’re not virgin, are you?” Brian posed.

Taken off-guard and agonized, Dom heard himself admit, “I never let nobody big as you do me before.”

The corner of Spilner’s mouth raised. “No?”

It was like waving a red cape in front of a bull; Brian launched into hard-core, nut-pounding full rut. Once again, Dom’s expectations about herms were shattered. Amazing as all hell, except for the drawback of intense pain. A level of pain he would have kicked the shit out of anyone for inflicting on him. Much as his impulse was to knock his assailant across the room, it was nobody else but Spilner making frenzied, passionate love to him. The beautiful kid who was so naïve he didn’t have a clue about how talented or well-hung he was, yet had come into Toretto’s life out of nowhere and changed all the fucked up rules of life he’d ever known. Yeah, it was one hell of a different game altogether.

~~~

Monday – May 15

That morning while the Team worked, Dom laid out the course for the job the following night. That made him late to open the market. It wasn’t long before Mia showed up, after her classes.

“Listen,” he said to her behind the counter. “The job is tomorrow night, and I know you’re still giving Spilner the cold shoulder. I understand it was a shock for you, but you’ve had a whole week and I really need you to help out with this.”

Deadpan. “I don’t think so.” Her back to him, she proceeded to set up the deli area. 

Losing patience, Dom dropped his shoulders. “Don’t think of him as a herm; just think of him as a guy.”

Her actions became more heated. “Is that what you think I’m pissed about? That just further proves what fucking assholes you both are. I’ve known plenty of herms in my life and personally, I’ve liked them better than I have mascs. Up until now, anyway. It’s funny, but I guess I’d just been lucky enough to know only decent ones before. The ones who had the great qualities of guys, mixed with the great qualities in women. So imagine my shock when that butt-buddy of yours proved to me that some of them could be just as asshole as any masc.”

Interestingly, Dom had never thought of herms that way before. It would take Mia to see that. “Actually you were right. That’s a pretty damn good assessment of Spilner, anyway…He’s been upset about this thing with you. He feels like shit about it. He wasn’t trying to deceive you. He thought you knew he was herm.”

“Oh, yeah?” She sounded sarcastic. “If he really does feel like shit, why hasn’t he said anything to me about it? Why hasn’t he apologized?”

“I didn’t let him. He wanted to, but I wouldn’t let him.”

Straightening, her back still to him, she paused to brush at her nose with the back of her hand. “You think I don’t know you’re lying for him? So I’ll agree to keep him occupied while you go risk your ass on another goddamn heist?”

“No, I want you to go to dinner with him tonight so he can apologize. At least give him the chance.”

“He can do that any time, if he really means to. I have neither the need nor desire to go to dinner with your goddamn boyfriend.”

Her tone could have left smoke trails. Though surprised, Dom realized her anger was about her loss of hope for a romance with Spilner and nothing else. “You mean,” he asked, amused, “even though you know he’s herm, you’re still interested…? I didn’t know you liked girls…”

“Technically, he’s a guy!” she snapped. “And I don’t give a shit--!”

“Oh, he’s more than that,” Dom started to laugh, “and you do give a shit about him or you wouldn’t be pissed. ”

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” Ripping off her plastic, disposable gloves, she tossed them in the trash. “You obviously have your own homosexual tendencies.”

“I’m definitely not knocking it. It’s just cool that you think the same way.”

With the prep station essentially ready, she slammed her books onto the counter to bury herself in her studies. “Whatever I think is none of your goddamn business! I already told you to fuck off, so do it already!”

Aware a couple of customers had come in to the market, Dom moved to the exterior side of the counter from where Mia bent over her books. He spoke quietly. “Believe me, there was no premeditation about it. He’d earned enough trust from me to invite him to the house and that was it. I honestly wasn’t trying to keep you and Spilner apart. Although if I’d known then what he’s got, I probably would have put an iron chastity belt on you, before he tried to make another move on you.”

Shooting up, she threw her long hair back, and exploded. “Just where the--!” Catching sight of the potential patrons, she instantly lowered her voice to an irate whisper. “Where the hell do you get the goddamn nerve to say that kind of shit? These aren’t the goddamn middle ages!” She began gathering up her books. “God, I am so done with your crap! I’m going home.” 

“I mean I would have been real hard put stand by and let my little sister get rammed regularly by a pole the size of his.”

While she held her books to her chest, her mouth hanging open in shock, Dom left to head back to the garage.

~~~

After a little over three restless hours of hanging around The Racer’s Edge, Brian took off. Even though he was sure any reason for staking out Toretto was just about nonexistent, Brian was too anxious to see him to stick around waiting for Tran or Hector, or any of their respective gang members.

It was the Supra. Seeing that car come together was close to becoming an obsession with Brian. That was why he couldn’t wait to get to Toretto’s garage that afternoon. Or so he told himself. 

To maintain his role as a masc, Brian had taken his earrings out before leaving his apartment that morning. Even though Harry knew Brian’s real gender, no one else on the street was supposed to. He’d brought them with him, though, to replace for Dom. He’d be expecting Brian to wear them all the time. A couple of blocks from the garage, he had to pull over and furtively slip them in his earlobes using the visor mirror in the cab of the F150.

Soon as he got to the garage, it wasn’t the Supra he looked for, it was Dom. Even in coveralls, he looked fantastic. Undone down past his breastbone, it exposed a glimpse of his powerfully developed pecs, scarcely covered by a thin undershirt. It made Brian’s cock lunge.

“Business was kinda slow at Harry’s today,” he announced when he reached Toretto. “He told me I could take off early.”

Toretto was unpacking a new shipment of parts. He glanced up looking pleased. “Check it out; the new gauges just got here.”

As Brian started for the lockers to change, Dom arrested him. His gaze roved Brian’s earlobes, approvingly. “God, do those earrings look great on you.”

Compliments always embarrassed Brian. “Thanks.”

“Next, we’re gonna get you some new clothes, like I said.” Dom subtly brushed the back of his fingers over Brian’s forearm.

Satisfied with his choice of clothing, Brian couldn’t suppress a mild wave of resentment.

“Oh, by the way,” Dom continued, “my cousin, Rico, called me this morning. He asked me to go over and see him tomorrow.”

Both disappointment and suspicion kicked in. “Your cousin…?”

“Yeah. We’re pretty tight. I told him I would. So I’m gonna be busy tomorrow evening, you know?”

“You never mentioned him before.”

“No? There are a lot of things I never mentioned before. A lot of things you haven’t mentioned about yourself, either.”

Fuck. Brian was pretty good at connecting the dots. Even so, he held out for hope. “Why not go see him right now? Then you can be back by this evening to put in a little more time on the car.”

“You see, he’s kind of in a bad way. He and his fiancée have been planning for more than a year to get married this July. It’s supposed to be this big-ass Italian ceremony, you know, but now he’s having second thoughts.”

Exhaling, Brian looked away. With the Team around, he didn’t want to give them any kind of an exhibition. It wasn’t about no cousin. Dom had lied about Lompoc to save face; guys and particularly mascs hated admitting virginity. Nobody liked coming off unsophisticated and green. And the very last thing a guy in those circumstances could stand was size. “Sure,” Brian allowed, trying to sound casual. Then continued toward the back of the garage to change.

In a couple of moments, the restroom door was shoved open. Brian didn’t bother to look up to see who’d come in.

“What’s up?” It was Dom’s deep, throaty voice.

Seated on one of the beat-up steel chairs in the room, Brian was unlacing his sneakers. “Don’t ask me. You’re the one who’s busy.”

“Yeah.” Dom sounded patient. “But, not ‘til tomorrow night.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get it.” Standing, Brian turned away to drop his jeans so he could get into the coveralls. He knew Dom sure wouldn’t appreciate a frontal view of Brian in stretch-knit boxer briefs right then.

Footsteps in heavy work boots approached from behind. In contrast, Dom’s tone was unexpectedly soft. “No, I get it. This is about last night, isn’t it? You’re really not into that kind of--”

“Wait.” Brian froze, shocked. Then checked himself from facing Dom before hastening the coveralls up to his waist. “You’re the one making excuses, not me. If I didn’t like last night, I’d be the one making excuses.”

“You think I’m making excuses?” Dom seemed somewhat shocked, as well, though somehow, he’d garnered a sense of humor about it. “Now you lost me. Excuses about what?”

Shit. He wasn’t going to make Brian have to say it. Backing, he resolutely continued fastening the coveralls over his t-shirt, head down. “Nothing. None of it happened, all right? Let’s just forget about it.”

Dom’s sense of humor was suddenly drying up. “What didn’t happen? Look, Brian, I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I ain't makin’ excuses. Ask Mia. She’ll tell you what all is going on with Rico.”

“Whatever. I know this is about Saturday. So let’s just quit the bullshit, and leave it at that.” Brian sat down again to put on his work boots.

Dom was silent a moment. “No, I don’t talk to nobody about my Pop. I don’t like to. Things are like…different with you.”

Strategically, he’d ensured there wouldn’t be a repeat performance of Saturday afternoon. In the chair again, Brian busied himself putting on his work boots. “I wasn’t talking about that.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

Much as Brian didn’t want to discuss it, he knew what would happen when he chose to dominate Toretto again--and he wanted to, soon--if the situation wasn’t broached. “You know what I mean.”

Taking one of the other chairs, Dom turned it backwards and sat down on it carefully, bringing himself to Brian’s level, facing him. Close, he spoke quietly. “You mean you think I don’t like bottoming?”

That was obvious.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Dom went on. “I was undecided before. You, however, changed all that. Whatever you did, I fucking loved it. You do got a piece on you, though; I still hurt from it. But, I liked that.”

Surprised, Brian shot Dom a glance.

“Look,” Dom went on. “I talked to Mia and calmed her down some. Why don’t you and her go have dinner and straighten things out while I go see our cousin?”

That was a seriously left-field, badly timed offer. Mia was not the Toretto Brian was planning to spend time with. “Tomorrow?”

“You said you wanted to talk things over with her.”

“Yeah, but…”

“She has been acting like a stuck-up bitch with you, and I don’t like it. You two used to be friendly. It’ll be a lot more comfortable for me once she gets over it. So tomorrow night, I want you two to go out and have fun. ”

As weird as the concept was, it could be a fortuitous turn of events for the investigation. So far, Brian hadn’t really been able to absolve Dom of the activities he or any of his crew were alleged to have committed. Mia could provide some valuable intelligence. That was, if Brian hadn’t misunderstood Dom. “Go out?”

“I want her to relax around you. Stop treating you like you jilted her.”

“Yeah well, maybe I did jilt her.”

“I want her to get over it.”

The signals were cross-firing confusingly. Brian had to be very careful about how he handled the proposal. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

“Like I said, I want you two to be friends. But,” he smiled like he was either totally kidding or dead serious, “if you get that big dick of yours near her, I’ll kill you.”

~~~

Tuesday – May 16

Whatever Mia had been told about the dinner, she must have dressed after her brother left for their cousin’s. The following evening when she arrived at Brian’s apartment to pick him up at around a quarter to nine, she was dressed a lot sexier than her brother could have approved. She wore a breezy, spaghetti-strap, short, silk top over one of her pairs of painted-on, low-rise jeans. The gap between the hem of the blouse and the hip band of her jeans displayed more than a glimpse of skin, and beneath the thin silk, it was apparent she was braless. Being May, it was still long-sleeve, if not light jacket weather. Mia had neither sleeves, nor jacket. Of course her tits were standing up.

On the walk to the stairs from the apartment, Mia commented dryly, “Well, at least I know where you live now.”

She led him to her Acura. “I’ll drive. Since you’re new to LA, I’ve taken the liberty of choosing a place to eat.”

No, he wasn’t a native, but in the few years he’d worked there, he’d become well-acquainted with much of the urban sprawl of LA County, cruising the streets in police-issue CVs. In keeping with his cover, he posed no argument.

A couple of blocks and very few words from her later, while Brian tried to figure out how to approach the situation, she turned on the stereo. With that, she precluded any real conversation, filling her silence by punching the preset radio stations that were tuned moderately loud. The only way to read that was that she was still pissed; Brian wondered why she’d agreed to come at all.

So not to have to discuss it in a public place, he finally reached to the volume adjust on the stereo and turned it down. “I thought you knew,” he began, even though he’d meant for no one involved with the case to know.

“What?” she asked calmly.

“It didn’t even occur to me, you know? I didn’t think it mattered that much.”

“About you and Dom?”

“No, not that. I mean about what I am.”

“It matters in that you should have told me. Because if anything, what you are is even better than what I thought.”

Judging by what Toretto had said, her words nor her tone made any sense. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“You couldn’t be more mistaken.” She glanced to him before turning into a pay-parking lot.

At the front of the well-reputed Cuban restaurant, Brian automatically drew open the door for Mia.

“Thank you,” she said. “Does my brother open doors for you?”

Uncertain of what she was hunting for, he replied, “Does it matter?”

“I was just wondering.”

“Most of the time.”

“You know,” Mia continued, on her way in, “Vince has been trying to talk me into coming here with him on a date. I’ve heard the food is good, so I’ve been wanting to come here, too. But, I keep turning him down.”

“So, we came here because Vince is gonna be here?” Brian deduced.

“No, no. He’s busy jamming with his band tonight.”

With the restaurant busy as it was, the food had to be pretty damn good. The decor was wildly Cuban and colorful, punctuated with statues of the Virgin Mary and strings of mini-lights everywhere. Because they were seated at a table, Brian leaned forward to be able to keep their conversation private. “Look, Mia, in any case, you seem to be pissed at me, so I guessing it’s just about me and Dom.”

She waited.

“If you’re mad ‘cos you think I let you down, I’m sorry.”

For a moment, she regarded him. “I ‘think’ you let me down? No, you flat-out let me down.” 

Elbows on the table, he folded his hands. “I wasn’t implying you were imagining things; I was just never sure you really wanted to go out with me.”

Appearing ready to rebut, her mouth opened, but she remained silent.

“The way I saw it, you were friendly to everyone who came in the market. You never gave me any hint you’d seriously consider dating me.”

Finally, she found her tongue. “I…I didn’t?”

Watching her, he shook his head.

A waiter arrived to take their orders for drinks. Not only because Brian was on duty, but meant to avoid any implication that the meal was romantic, he requested coffee. Seemingly still stunned, Mia agreed to the same.

When the waiter left to let them peruse the menus, Mia spoke again. “You mean, you don’t really prefer guys?”

That amused him. “I usually notice guys first, but I like femes, too, and you’re so beautiful, there’s no way I didn’t notice you.”

Over the top of her menu, he saw her blush. “You actually even noticed me, after you saw my brother?”

“Way.”

Mia sighed. “In other words, Letty was right.”

“Letty?”

“She said…she said I was blowing it ‘cos I was playing it too aloof with you…But, you don’t know how it is with my brother. He gives whoever I go out with such a hard time, I’m almost afraid to.”

Though it was neither news to Brian nor the reason he’d jumped at the opportunity to get involved with Dom instead, Mia didn’t need to know those things. “That’s why you put me through all that?” Brian half-teased.

Instantly, she dropped her menu. “Oh, God, Brian, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to put you through anything.”

“I didn’t mean to mess with your head, either.”

~~~

More interested in intelligence than a truce, Brian concentrated on proceeding with his plan to extract information. After that, Mia was surprisingly forthcoming. As hoped, there was nothing incriminating about anything she said to indicate that her brother and the “Team,” as she clarified they were called, had anything to do with the hijackings.

When they made to leave, she reached for the check—a move Brian rebuffed. On the way out of the restaurant, she suggested they buy a newspaper and take in a movie. Considering all the nights Brian had been spending with Toretto when he should have been doing surveillance, he feigned fatigue.

“Are you kidding?” she argued. “It’s early. Let’s go for a drive.”

Thereupon, she proceeded to show off her driving skills. Which were impressive, without a doubt. Then she took it upon herself to make margaritas for them at his place. On her way to a liquor store, Brian had to intervene. 

“I don’t think we should, you know?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have a blender.”

“Okay, then let’s just go over to my house and I can pick everything up there.”

“Maybe some other time when Dom’s home.”

“What’re you afraid of? That he’s going to think you tried to get me drunk so you could make a move on me?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what he’s gonna think.” It couldn’t have been stated any better.

She glanced to him, eyes sparkling, “Oh, you definitely wouldn’t have to get me drunk to go to bed with you.”

Just like Brian had speculated, going out to dinner with Mia hadn’t been a good idea. “Actually, I really am tired.”

“You must have had three cups of coffee with dinner. There’s no way you can be that tired. And anyway, I’m pretty sure I can keep you entertained. We talked about me over dinner; now I want to hear about you. I’m not ready to call it a night.”

~~~

At her house, Brian followed Mia in. Vince may have been at a jam session, but the place was unexpectedly empty. 

Restless, Brian tried to talk her out of the margaritas. “Let’s just have a beer, then I really oughta get going.” He headed for the refrigerator in the utility room.

“Come on, I make a pretty mean margarita.” She opened a cupboard and pulled out a covered blender. “Can you get the margarita mix, please?”

Some minor poking turned up a half-empty and a full bottle. Granted, there weren’t that many beers on hand. He drew out the half-empty bottle.

“Got ice at your place?” she asked.

“If you’re that bent on making margaritas, you may as well make ‘em here.” Brian checked the freezer and found four full Tupperware ice trays.

She glanced at the clock, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Okay, I guess.” On setting the blender on the tiny bit of counter space, she said, “Then get out the ice.”

~~~

The margaritas were good, even without salt. Just stronger than they should have been.

While Brian stood in front of the living room window looking for the headlights of Dom’s Mazda, Mia sat on the sofa in front of the dark TV. “So, when are you going to tell me about you, Mr. Brian Earl Spilner? All I know is that that can’t be your full, legal name, you’re from Arizona, and that contrary to what your driver’s license says, you’re herm.”

He continued to watch out the window. “Dom already asked about my license and I told him.”

“Did he? Well, one thing you’ve got to understand about my brother is generally he tells me jack shit about pretty much everything. So, what was the story?”

“Somebody screwed up at the MVD. I tried for years to get it fixed. I’m hoping when I get my California license, they’ll finally get it right. My middle name is really Arielle, but because they believed I was full Y, they must have thought it was some kind of typo. Didn’t even know how to spell Ariel.”

“Really?” Suddenly, she was behind him, at his shoulder. “That’s pretty. You ever go by Arielle?”

“Sometimes. All the time when I was little.”

“Oh, you must’ve been one real cute kid.”

He glanced back at her quickly, thinking she was the one that had to be true about. Saying it aloud, however, would only encourage her. “Did Dom say when he would be back?”

“No. I never know when he’s gonna be back from anywhere. Except when he goes to your place.”

“Whenever he goes to your cousin’s, what time does he usually get back?”

“Depends. If they go out and have a few drinks, it could be two or three in the morning. Depends on Rico, too. Why don’t you come and sit down over here with me?”

And have Dom come in and find them on the sofa together? Still, if it was going to be that much longer, Brian may as well sit down. He followed her, but took the armchair.

Forgoing the couch, she perched on the arm of his chair, margarita glass in hand. “What did you do back in Arizona? Any special someone you left behind?”

“Not when I left, no.”

“Wow. Pretty as you are, nobody snatched you up?”

He’d already covered that question as much as he meant to.

“So, what did you do before you came out here to work for Harry?”

“My best friend’s uncle had a garage. I learned mechanics from him and my friend’s dad and I worked there.” That much was true. “His uncle considered me family, so when things were rough for him, I wouldn’t get paid too well. Then when my friend got busted for five to ten, I decided it was time to find something better.”

“There must have been plenty of openings for skilled mechanics in Arizona.”

“Sure, if I was certified. Only I hadn’t had to go to school to work for my friend’s uncle. I’m planning on doing that here, soon as I can get some tuition money saved up.”

“I hate to say this, but the courses probably would have been cheaper in Arizona. Still, I’m really glad you decided to come here.” She ran her hand down the back of his neck.

Quickly, he polished off the rest of his margarita. “I oughta get going.”

Taking his glass, she set it on the closest table along with her own.

When he started to get up, she quickly backed to the arm of the chair again, then slid onto his lap from there. “Don’t go yet,” she pouted cutely.

“Mia.” His cock responded instantly, never waiting for his approval. Catching her, he tried to guide her off before she felt what she was bound to misinterpret. “Come on.”

Obstinately, her arms locked around his neck, which did the worst thing—draw her so close, she crushed his cock between them. Further stimulated, it naturally got harder. And she felt it. “Oh, wow,” her eyes widened in delight. “You like that.”

Fundamentally, he couldn’t deny it. Despite her clinging, he stood up, anyway. It forced her to reluctantly slide off his lap, but with her arms still locked around his neck, she used the opportunity to grind against his body and erection. “Mia. I really gotta go.”

“My brother really wants us to be friends.” She kissed his lower lip, chin, and jaw. “You don’t want to disappoint him, do you? I’m more than willing to be friends.”

“We are, we’re cool.” Gently, he tried to pry her arms free. “But, I’m sure he didn’t mean anything more than just friends-friends, you know?”

“He didn’t mention any specific level of friendship to me.” At last she released his neck, but her hands dropped instantly to his waistband, where she quickly fumbled past the hem of his shirt to unfasten his pants.

“Wait, no.” He took her hands, halting her.

“Why not? You want this as much as I do. And Dom already likes you.”

“You think he’s gonna feel the same way if I cheat on him?”

When she pulled to free her hands, he let go, hoping she’d realized it was time to back off. Unfortunately, she didn’t, but touched his face, instead. “I’m not suggesting you break it off with him. We’ll just be good friends like he wants us to be.”

“This isn’t what he meant and you know it.”

For a moment, her dark eyes studied him, pain evident. Then she stepped back, her long lashes lowered. “Fuck it.” She bent to pick up the glasses from the coffee table. “Just get out.”

Brian started for the door. “You know, if the situation was turned around and I’d gotten involved with you first, I wouldn’t think of cheating on you, either. And you wouldn’t want me to.”

~~~

The sound of his cell phone’s ring startled him awake. More tired than he’d thought, it took him a couple of moments to even figure out what bed he was in, as he fumbled for the phone on the night table. Too sleepy to focus on the caller’s ID, he mumbled, “Yeah.”

It was Tanner. “The hijackers pulled another heist. Where were you?”

Sitting up, Brian single-handedly rubbed his eyes. “Getting info from Toretto’s sister.” He saw the screen saver softly illuminating the monitor on his desk across from his bed then, and remembered he was actually home. “I got back to my place late, worked on the report, and fell asleep. I thought I was allowed to sleep some time within a 24-hour period.”

“Evidently, she didn’t tell you anything useful. Where was her brother tonight?”

“He was taking care of some family problems with their cousin.”

“Is that what he told you?” Tanner didn’t sound convinced. “And you believed him?”

“It didn’t seem like anything they’d lie about.”

“What was the story with this cousin? You did get a name, didn’t you?”

In fact, Brian hadn’t bothered to check the background for the cousin. That was sloppy police work. “You don’t know what they’re like. They’re too busy to be in synch with each other, so they hardly know what the other is doing well enough to do much covering. Toretto does his thing and Mia does hers. They both said the cousin’s name was Rico, and he and his fiancée were having second thoughts about getting married, if it has anything to do with the case.”

“I take it you checked out the story, whether it turns out to be necessary or not. As of a half hour ago, Bilkins decided he wants us to move in on Tran and his guys at 1700 hours today. I’m sure,” Tanner added wryly, “you can imagine how pleased Bilkins is with your efficient handling of this evening’s events. When he learns you spent the evening with Toretto’s sister instead of keeping track of the suspects, don’t expect me to run defense for you.”

~~~

May 17 – Wednesday

Ordinarily, the garage didn’t open before noon after a job. Ditching the Hondas then unloading the merchandise took the rest of the night. It was usually around 5:00 in the morning by the time they’d finally get home to crash. Without Letty’s help, it took longer.

Mia’s dinner with Spilner the night before must have worked out okay. By the time Dom had rousted the others and made sure they were on their way to the garage to work on the Supra, Mia had finished her classes for the day and was probably at the market. When he got there, she was busy with customers, so he opened the mail and tackled paperwork. In the interim, he managed to make some observations about her. By her aloof expression and lack of conviviality, Dom had to retract his postulation. Something must have gone wrong. He decided to call Spilner.

“He’s not here,” Harry told him.

“No?” That surprised Dom. “He said you let him off work early yesterday. You didn’t fire him after all, did you?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. Or, wait. You’re not pissed off at him again, are you? What’d he do now?”

“I’m not calling to complain,” Dom said patiently. “I just need to talk to him about the Supra we’re working on. Where’s he at, if you didn’t fire him?”

“Picking up parts in Pico Rivera. I’ll let him know you called, soon as he gets in.”

Screw that. Dom located Spilner’s cell number from the recently-dialed list. He was about to send when he saw the store had emptied. 

Pocketing his cell, Dom joined Mia at the counter. “So, what happened last night with you and Spilner?”

Rather than answer, she threw her books by the cash register to resume studying.

“Everything was cool last night, wasn’t it?”

Gaze in a book, she didn’t move. “Next time you need a favor for him, find someone else to do it.”

That wasn’t what Dom had hoped to hear. “So, you didn’t get along.”

“I have no interest in even trying.”

“That’s going to be a bit of a problem. See, I’m going to ask him to move into the house.”

Taking annotations from the book, her tone remained indifferent, yet she managed to inflect a note of measured sarcasm. “Oh, great. Just fucking great. I’ll have to listen to you two humping your room.”

“He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”

“I wish he had. Then I’d have a good reason to hate him. He’s always so annoyingly polite I want to punch him.”

Amused, Dom pushed away from the counter. “Whether you like him or not, he’s gonna be living with us, so you’re gonna have to be civil to him.”

“Like hell I will,” she called after him.

~~~

Back at the garage, it was 6:00 pm and Brian still hadn’t shown up. Dom sent a third call to Spilner’s cell. The first two had reached his voice mailbox. 

That time, Spilner answered, sounding a little out of breath. “Yeah.”

“Where are you?” Dom inquired.

“…Sorry. Things came up. I’m not gonna be able to make it into the garage today.”

“No? You all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. No problem. Just things I gotta take care of.”

Maybe he’d gone to a doctor to get the contraceptive. Which would make perfect timing, since he’d be sleeping with Dom every night pretty soon. Whatever the costs, Dom wasn’t going to take no for an answer on paying for or reimbursing office visits and medications at least until Brian got a better job with benefits. “Okay, just take care of what you need to. I’ll talk to you later.”

~~~

Thursday – May 18 

With the Recaro seats bolted in, they were able to finally get the carpet completely tacked down. The next day when the paint would be fully dry, they could add the finishing touch with the racing decals. It wasn’t even 9:00 in the evening. 

Breaking open a case of Coronas from the market, they celebrated the completed restoration of the Supra. Then out of earshot of Jesse and Leon, Dom surprised the hell out of Brian by asking him to move in with him.

In shock, Brian couldn’t come up with a response.

Sensing Brian’s complete surprise, Dom laughed quietly. “You don’t have to answer right this second. This weekend is Race Wars, so we’ll be out of town, anyway. You can think about it in the meantime.”

Race Wars? Brian was at a loss. Oh, yeah, that was going to be the perfect opportunity to scope out all the suspects at once. The invitation, though…there was no way Brian could accept it yet, no matter how bad he wanted to.

~~~

Not more than half an hour later at the sink in the garage restroom, Brian’s cell went off. Damn. He flipped it open. “Yeah.”

“O'Conner.” It was Bilkins and he sounded pissed. “You need to be here in five minutes or less. You understand?”

“Right.” Brian shut the phone. How the hell was he going to explain why he had to take off for the evening to Dom?

Back in the garage, Brian found the Team had started to close up for the night.

“Come on,” Dom gestured with his bottle. “We’re taking the party home.”

Brian thought a second. “I’ll be there in a while. I’m really running out of everything at home. Soap, detergent, trash bags—you know. I gotta go pick up some things at the store.”

“We’ll stop by the market. You can get whatever you need.”

“You don’t got my toothpaste. I’ll see you later.”

~~~

Back at the operative base, at the Eddie Fisher house, Brian waited restlessly, seated at an empty desk. Damn, did he want another cigarette from the pack he’d left in the console compartment of the F150. Bilkins was on the phone near the kitchen.

Tanner had taken a seat nearby, as well. He sniffed. The chair creaked as he leaned toward Brian. “You been smoking?” he asked quietly.

“Not me,” Brian lied.

“Yes,” Bilkins was saying. “Yes, sir, I got it.” He hung up then ominously approached them. “The DVD players were purchased legally. All we’ve got on Tran and company are a couple of low rent weapons charges and some outstanding speeding tickets.”

“So they’re out,” Tanner deduced.

“Yeah. The father bailed them out.” Bilkins glowered at Brian. “Is this the kind of intelligence we can expect from you, O'Conner?”

Startled, Brian looked up. Bilkins had been the one to make the premature decision to torpedo the Trans. “You’re gonna put this on me?”

“I can put it on whoever I want to, kid,” Bilkins snapped. “Perks of the job.”

That was way out of line. “There’s no way you’re gonna put this on me.”

“No, wait a minute, wait a minute,” Bilkins interrupted. “Let me tell you. I don’t care if you’ve got to put a gun to someone’s head and blow your cover to smithereens. You got 36 hours to crack this bastard. Or you might want to think about another career.”

Seething, Brian threw open the back door and stalked to the pool side. The lights beneath the water cast the enclosed courtyard in a dramatic glow under the night sky. 

He heard footsteps behind him. It was Tanner. “It’s Toretto, Brian. It’s always been Toretto.” 

Though Brian was aware he’d still been neglecting to survey all the suspects as assiduously as he should, he shouldn’t have to pay for Bilkins’ fuck-up. All right, if Brian had been keeping tabs on Hector that night instead of dining with Mia, the last hijacking wouldn’t have taken place.

Tanner went on. “Tran and Hector are just…Just fumes. Now, I know you’ve been lying to me. Have you been lying to yourself because of Mia?”

Brian scoffed. “Is that what you think? You’re listening to Muse now?”

“You’re the one who said it when you told me you were having dinner with her the night of the hijacking.”

“That wasn’t what the dinner was about.”

“Then what happened, O'Conner?” Tanner neared. “Why weren’t you on top of it? This isn’t like you.”

“I told you, I was interrogating her. You saw my report. It’s not like I was doing nothing.”

“It might as well have been nothing, because it sure didn’t stop another hijacking. So we know a little more about Toretto’s gang. Now, if you’d come out of that dinner with a confession, then it would have been worthwhile. Didn’t it occur to you that she may have been deliberately running interference while her brother and his gang went out with the intent to jack another truck? I mean, if she likes you—and I don’t see how she couldn’t--it’s not the kind of family secret she’d want you to know in any hurry.”

There was nothing Brian could say about that.

“Or hell, maybe it’s Toretto.”

Hearing that sigh from Tanner—the one that meant he’d just figured something out that had been wearing him down for a long time—Brian shut his eyes.

“You could fall for Toretto as easy as you could his sister. We should have thought of that.”

“No, man. You got it all wrong.”

“What I got wrong was to give you this case to handle on your own before you were ready.”

Affronted, Brian faced Tanner. Worst of all was that he could be right. “I swear, everything’s--”

“I’m not saying you’re not good at your job, believe me, Brian. It’s not easy for any of us at the best of times. It was a mistake to lay this assignment on you before we found you another partner to give you a chance to decompress and get your head back into the job. We do have some prospects in mind, and I think it’s time--”

“I don’t need any help.” That was the second to the last thing Brian wanted. “Not now, anyways. This weekend is the car show and races out in the desert; all the suspects will be there and I’ve been invited. I can't show up with a new partner out of nowhere and Toretto sure as hell won’t trust ‘em. He’ll shy and I’ll lose my in.”

Tanner eyed him warily. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Brian was positive about that, anyway.

“All right. But, you heard Bilkins: All you’ve got are thirty-six hours.”

~~~

Friday--May 19

As a rule, Jesse made a hobby out of taking pictures of the cars. He kept a visual record of all the ones they’d overhauled, tricked-out, and cracked up. Once he got a digital camera, he became even more fanatical about it. Naturally, he had to take pictures of the Supra.

Spilner came over surprisingly early. He said he got the day off and considering all the time he’d been putting in over the week, apparently, he deserved it. Most likely, though, Harry didn’t want to have to pay overtime, so cut Spilner a day off so not to have to.

The crew who worked on the car was always included, although Jesse seemed to insist on more pictures of Dom with the car than anyone else. This time, he insisted Brian step in, as well. 

Though Toretto had been put off by Spilner, he didn’t protest. The kid was so beautiful he was bound to be at least as photogenic as the car.

Then came the test drive. Jesse handed Dom the camera and told him to take more pictures out on the road, away from the garage. He suggested the PCH as a backdrop.

~~~

Through the rear window of the Supra, Dom watched as they left the black Ferrari behind. The kid was really becoming one heck of a driver.

“Say,” Dom proceeded over the thrum of the engine, on the ride up PCH, “you haven’t been avoiding me lately, have you?”

Brian glanced toward Dom. “No. Why?”

“It’s just that you didn’t show up last night, you haven’t invited me over much this week…In fact, not since Monday.”

“I guess it’s just been a busy week for both of us.” Brian adjusted the rearview mirror slightly. “You had to hang out with your cousin and all.”

“That was just one night. Then yesterday evening, when I asked about you moving into my place, you didn’t show up the rest of the night…I thought maybe you got spooked, you know? You don’t want to move in?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, it just looks that way, you know?” Dom kept his gaze on the road.

Again, Brian shot a glance at his passenger. “Is that what you think?”

Dom had to force a casual tone. “It’s cool. I’m not trying to pressure you or anything.”

Downshifting, Brian made a sudden break off the nearest exit.

At the first stop, he leaned across the console to Dom. “What’s this look like?” Brian kissed him.

~~~

Leaving PCH behind, Brian drove into the Malibu hills. It wasn’t just the car’s performance that aroused Dom; the driver’s skills were doing a hell of a job, as well.

On a remote path, not too far off-road, Dom had Brian pull over. Aside from the indigenous scrub, there were naturally-occurring brush and trees for backdrop. Camera in hand, Dom got out of the car to take pictures. Only he found himself taking more pictures of Brian than of the car. Truth was, he was prettier. Having left the roof of the Supra back at the garage, the wind had had a very sexy, tousled effect on his curls.

“Take your shirt off,” Dom prompted. “Lemme see some skin.”

Laughing, Brian pointed at the Supra. “The car? That’s what you’re getting pictures of, remember? Come on.”

“Take it off,” Dom went on, watching the viewfinder. “Stand by the car and take it off, then.”

After Brian retrieved the pack of cigarettes from the console between the seats, he relented and took his shirt off. Dom snapped pictures while he unraveled the pack, tapped one out, and lit it with the car lighter.

The taste of tobacco had never bothered Dom. And Brian looked too sexy for it to deter him, even if it did. Stepping close, Dom kissed him where he stood in the driver’s door, holding the camera aside. As the kiss deepened, he let Brian feel his hard-on, and felt him sexually respond, in turn.

With Brian shirtless, Dom was inspired to get a little more creative with the camera. He had Brian pose leaning on the front fender, then on the front fascia, legs apart. He looked great, except where was that healthy dick of his? How come it hardly showed, even when he got wood? It was probably those damn, loose-cut, baggy jeans he wore. Granted, they were comfortable for the size of his package. Dom well knew how binding tight pants could be. He’d try and do better when he took Brian to the store for some new clothes.

“Why don’t you lose the sneakers and socks?” Dom suggested.

Sizing up the ground under the small crop of trees where they’d pulled over, Brian squinted. “What for?”

“You got sexy feet.”

Finishing his cigarette, Brian tossed it on the hard dirt and crushed it out with his Converse. “Tell you what; I’ll take ‘em off if let me take pictures of you. Only you gotta show me your skin, too.”

“Me?”

Coming to Dom, Brian reached for the camera. “Hell yeah.”

~~~

The traffic on the minor canyon road they’d left behind wasn’t much, but they were aware of it when any passed by. Beyond the brush, they couldn’t see the vehicles too well, so it was relatively safe for a short time, anyway.

Only Toretto got so into playing photographer, he was soon pressing Brian into taking off the rest of his clothes. Though Brian refused, at first, Toretto had a real gift for persuasion. Not just with words, but with his body, hands, mouth, and tongue. And what a body. To be honest, all he really had to do was strip off all his clothes and he wouldn’t need to use any other means to coax Brian out of his. Within reason, anyway.

Despite the view of Dom’s powerful naked legs, hips, chest, and erection, after allowing only a few nude shots, Brian backed into the passenger seat in modesty. The risk that a state police cruiser might pass on the road nagged at him. As usual, Toretto was amused by Brian’s modesty. He didn’t argue. What he did instead was kneel in front of the open door between Brian’s legs and put his falling erection to mouth. 

“No, wait,” Brian protested, trying to control the situation, while he could. “Cops could come by any minute. Let’s just get dressed and go.”

In no time, Brian willingly leaned back on the console, legs wide open while Dom probed deep inside with his tongue, or swallowed cock to the back of his throat. By then, Brian was so turned on, he didn’t give a damn where they were or how Dom prompted him where to prop his feet on the frame for maximum exposure. Not just for access, but for the camera.

In that giddy state approaching orgasm, Brian found his seat leaned all the way back, his partner on top of him, struggling to sink his thick, throbbing boner in place in the cramped quarters. Wet as Brian was, it helped guide Dom’s blind slip-ups back on course. The timing was bad, but Brian suddenly realized that once again, they had no protection.

Just seeing his partner’s huge muscles flex as he pumped over him was enough to shut Brian’s mouth, let alone what the sensation of the dire, ecstatic pain of that impressive cock pistoning inside did to him. All the petty details just faded away.

~~~

Saturday—May 20

It was blistering hot like Barstow outside of Palmdale where the Race Wars events were held. Brian had arranged to arrive on his own, so he’d have the freedom to do some police work without arousing the Team’s suspicions. After the previous afternoon into night he’d spent with Toretto, he met no hesitation when he made the proposal. In fact, though the Supra was supposed to be Dom’s upon completion, he told Brian to drive the Supra out to the desert and race it all he wanted.

Before locating the Team’s campsite where they’d brought their Airstream trailers, Brian located Hector’s and the Trans’ campsites. That way he could keep tabs on what they were doing, all day long. Then he found Toretto’s Team.

While Brian pulled his duffel from the floor of the passenger side, Jesse bound out to meet him. His ever-present knit cap was conspicuously missing in the desert heat. “You’re here, man,” he effervesced. “Cool. This place is awesome. You’ve got to see the car show. They’ve got some really wicked rides this year. Everyone’s over there right now, but Dom. He’s been in and out, setting up some action for the Supra, waiting for you to get here. Let me show you where you’ll be staying.”

The trailer Jesse took Brian to was decently equipped, with a TV and an entertainment system. It seemed stocked well enough with food and supplies for the weekend. Then Brian was led on a short tour of the limited accommodations.

“Mia sleeps here,” Jesse explained, briefly demonstrating how the built-in sofa converted to a bed. Then showed him the bathroom, before reaching a shut door. “This is Dom’s room. We sleep in the other trailer.”

“I’ll sleep anywhere,” Brian volunteered. “I don’t care.”

“Actually…” Jesse took Brian’s duffel from him and opened the bedroom door, “Dom said you’ll be sleeping in here.”

Like the rest of the trailer, the built-ins were all wood--carved, sanded, and polished to the smooth, rounded perfection of the Airstream standard. That included a double bed on a platform—the only bed.

Jesse was already setting Brian’s duffel on the bed. “There’s a private bathroom, there.” He pointed. “Some closet space with drawers. I can unpack for you.” He unzipped the bag.

“Uh, no…” Brian took the straps of the duffel. “That’s okay. I got it.”

They heard the exterior door of the trailer open, then heavy footsteps. Vince called out. “Hey, Dominic!”

With a disappointed sigh, Jesse replied. “We’re back here, Vee.”

Vince stuck his head in through the open door. Snapping off his shades, he glowered at Brian. “Where the fuck is Dom?”

“Making the rounds,” Jesse said.

“What’re you doing in here?” Vince challenged. “Why aren’t you putting on your bikini to go onstage with the rest of the Hot Car babes?”

Brian was unruffled. “Why aren’t you?”

The scowl deepened. “That’s where you belong, you cheap, trashy, pin-up whore—not behind the wheel of a car, and not in Dom’s bedroom! Like we can't guess how you got him to let you stick around this long.”

Sufficiently riled, Brian started toward Vince. “What did you say, you fist-humping, tone deaf, Zakk Wylde-wanna be?”

Jesse shot between them. “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Smaller than either of them, he wasn’t much of a deterrent. “You don’t wanna do this, man. You both gotta hang out here together the whole weekend; you guys kill each other before Sunday night, Dom’s gonna be pissed.”

Still fuming, Vince pounded a fist into his other hand, clearly holding back. “You know, I’m gettin’ real, real sick of this bullshit. I’m gonna talk to Dominic.” 

While they heard him heatedly throw the exterior door on its hinges, Jesse explained. “That was great, man” he enthused. “He can be such an asshole and I swear to God, he’s been really wigging lately. I gotta tell you, Brian, I’ve always stuck up for you, defended you. I’m glad you went for Dom, ‘cos it’s like you’re exactly what he’s been needing. He’s actually chilled some. He’s more like himself again than he’s been in a long time. Not like he was with Letty. You and Dom are like perfect together.”

Surprised, Brian didn’t know what to say. What the fuck was going to happen when they found out he was an undercover cop?

~~~

The heat added to Vince’s irritability while he waited for Dom to get done checking out a tricked-out Subaru. Before Vince could say anything, Dom asked if Spilner had got there yet. Like it or not, Vince had to tell him. “Yeah, he’s here.”

On the walk back to their camping site, Vince really laid it out. “Man, I don’t like this bullshit with him staying in the trailer with you, dog. This ain't like it was with Letty. It’s all different and I don’t like it.”

“I’m not gonna listen to you complain about Brian all weekend long,” Dom replied dismissively. “If you don’t like the arrangement, you can go home.”

“What? You mean you’d throw me out instead a him?”

“You got it.”

“Shit, we got years and years of history. You just met him yesterday. You know what it is about him I don’t like the most? The way you been treating me like an outsider. Ever since you been bangin’ balls with him ‘most every night. I don’t like--”

“Hey.” Suddenly halting, Dom caught Vince around the back of the neck. “Watch your mouth when you talk about Brian.”

Things like that, in fact. Dominic never gave a shit about the words anybody used about Letty. “All right, man, but this ain't how it was with Letty. We were close. We understood each other. You’re all different about him, man, and it sucks.”

Dom started off again. “He’s not Letty.”

“No shit. I mean, I admit, he’s a damn good-looking piece a ass and he don’t act like a bitch, like she did. But, it’s like he monopolizes all your time. Shit, we’re hardly a team any more. You’re always busy with Spilner. You know the best way to work this whole thing out between us.”

“What way is that?” Dom seemed distracted by his intent to get to the trailer.

“I wasn’t asking, I was saying. ‘Cos you know what it is.”

It was pretty clear Dom wasn’t listening any more. Not only did he say nothing, but when someone they knew called after him, he seemed more interested in tossing them a response, than he did Vince.

“Come on, Dominic,” Vince stressed. “You know what I’m talkin’ about.”

“I’m not worried about it,” Dom finally replied. “You’ll get to like him, you’ll see.”

~~~

It was hard trying to be all over the grounds of the event at once and harder still to keep Dom convinced that everything was copacetic. When Dom raced the Supra, it gave Brian a chance to check up on the other two suspects’ camp, but then he couldn’t be gone long, as he had to help prep the car again, refuel, and reload fresh NOS tanks for the next competition. Furthermore, he soon found himself forced to strap on a helmet, hustle behind the wheel, and struggle to psyche himself into not just racing, but winning. The Team had it down to an art; still, it was miserable in such heat. The tent they worked under didn’t reduce the temperature in the car interior to a comfortable level. Even Mia helped out, if necessary, when Team members came and went to see some of the other events going on. She just hardly communicated with Brian. 

In the middle of the afternoon, Brian was just returning to the campsite after another surveillance of both Hector and the Trans. Both were still well-occupied. The Trans were finishing the prep on a black, pinstriped Honda 2000 and Hector was enjoying the bikini contest Vince had mentioned earlier, which amused Brian.

As he reached the Team trailer, the door abruptly swung open, nearly striking him.

“Whoa!” Jesse started. “Yo, Bri. What’s up?”

“Where were you?” Brian didn’t wait for an answer. “You just missed Dom kick the ass off a ’97 Integra.”

“Busy, dude. Settin’ up my own victory.” Heading for the raceway, Jesse waved a pink slip in the air.

“What? What’re you racing?” Brian caught Jesse’s wrist and took the note from him.

“The Jetta, man.”

Confirmed by the type in the title space. “Whoa, wait a second. You can't race your dad’s car.”

“Sure I can. It ain't gonna be no problem ‘cos I ain't losin’. This fool is runnin’ a Honda 2000. That way me and my dad can roll together when he gets out of prison.”

“Yeah, right,” Brian continued, following. “Except they’re gonna throw him back in, after he kills you.”

“Oh, shit,” Jesse said, snatching the slip from Brian. “I’m up!”

~~~

The sick feeling that attended Jesse’s defeat didn’t get any better on the run back to the trailer. Leon was ahead of Brian. On sight of Dom outside it, Leon called, “Yo! Heads up, bro. We got problems.”

Considering the winnings they’d made so far, Dom’s puzzled look made sense; it didn’t seem possible something could go wrong out of nowhere. “What?” He looked to Brian, as well.

Leon pointed after the Jetta as it proceeded into the distance.

No less puzzled, Dom asked, “Where’s he going?” 

Brian didn’t want to say it.

Leon responded. “He just raced Tran for slips.”

“Oh, shit.” Wincing, Dom rubbed his hand over his forehead.

Just then, Tran drove up. Parking, he climbed out of the car, furious. “Where the fuck’s he going?”

Casually, Dom gestured. “He went to the car wash.”

“He can wash my ass,” Tran spit. “Go fetch my car.”

Affronted, Dom paused to eye him. “‘Go fetch your car?’” He echoed and waved a finger at Tran. “We’re not on your block anymore. You better watch who you talk to like that.” Dom started for the trailer. “Hey, Spilner.”

“Toretto!” Tran barked.

Both Dom and Brian stopped and looked back.

“Toretto, you shit!” Tran went on. “SWAT came into my house. They disrespected me—disrespected my whole family. Some asshole narc’d me out. And I know that asshole was you!”

Dom swung. The right hook to Tran’s face dropped him instantly. “Fuck you! I never narc’d on nobody!” Dom jumped him and continued to pummel. “I never narc’d on nobody!”

Time slowed down to a near halt. The conditioning Brian had learned to uphold as a police officer lost all meaning. He’d been trained to and intervened in lots of altercations over the few years of his career. It had become second nature to him. Though he knew what to do to control the situation, he wasn’t about to. At that moment, he remembered what did matter; defending those he cared about the most at any cost. Many years before becoming a police officer, he’d learned how to fight and draw a dead aim down a gun site to do that very thing.

An exchanged glance at Leon translated basically into a similar sentiment; as far as he was concerned, Tran’s words had been grounds for an ass-kicking. They both stood by, neither interfering. 

Event security guards rushed in. Big as they were, they had a hell of a time trying to haul Toretto off Tran. He’d break free and resume beating Tran before they could even get Toretto to his feet. He was probably reliving the incident with Kenny Linder. In the same space of time, more Trans appeared. Before the guards had even noticed them, Brian, Leon, and soon Vince, had wiped them out of the equation. As always, it was a rush to launch into a street fight.

~~~

A couple of hours after the fight had broken up, they were released from the event security quarters. Brian knew that would happen. The many witnesses that had seen the provocation as well as the subsequent attack by Tran’s family would make a difficult case for them to press charges. And soon as Tanner and Bilkins heard about it, so not to impede the investigation, they’d make doubly sure Brian and everyone else involved was released.

Other than for bruised knuckles, no member of the Team was hurt. Hot and sweaty, yeah, but not hurt. Back in the trailer, in the cramped, rear bathroom Brian eased Dom from his clothes, and into a barely warm shower. He wanted to prevent Dom from getting heatstroke--not lose the hard-on he gained while Brian stripped him.

He needed no prompting. Instead of getting in the shower, Dom pulled Brian’s damp t-shirt off, then unzipped his jeans to let them fall. They were both naked in moments. Pressing Brian into the corner of the tiny shower enclosure, Dom hungrily, passionately kissed, grinding their erections between them.

~~~

While dressing after the shower, Dom watched Brian draw on another pair of baggy jeans and prepare to don yet another unflattering, black t-shirt.

“Yo,” Dom interceded. “Why do you always dress like that, anyway?”

“What?” Brian started to pull the shirt on. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it? I appreciate that you’re wearing the earrings, but otherwise, it’s way too butch. Plus it hides your body. A body like that should be on display—not hidden.”

It was impossible to explain it was the decision of the PD, and then the Feds that they wanted O'Conner in full Y drag. “Its comfortable anyway…” he tried.

“There’s no way in hell a crew-neck t-shirt and sleeves--even if they’re short--could ever be comfortable in this heat. And as for the Jockeys, you should be wearing something sexier.”

There was no arguing about the temperature.

“Here.” In only a pair of cement-colored chinos, Dom opened the built-in bed table drawer and took out a pair of scissors. “Gimme that t-shirt and I’ll trim about fifteen degrees off for you.”

With uncertainty, Brian passed Dom the shirt.

“You know, you should dress a lot nicer than you do.” He looked Brian over. “You don’t even dress sexy for a guy, let alone a herm. Gimme the pants, too. You’d look great in a pair of cut-offs. I mean, those legs. You got the legs of a fashion model.”

Brian didn’t even start to unfasten them. “Me? What about you? You were wearing a t-shirt, too. And long, baggy pants.”

It figured that Dom smiled in amusement while he cut. “You want me to dress sexier?”

“Hell, yeah. You probably can't imagine how hot your ass and legs make me, and you’re not showing them. As for your shirt, a V-neck doesn’t make a whole lot of difference; it’s still a t-shirt.”

“I don’t tend to buy three sizes too big, like you do. However, I see your point; it would be double-standard of me to ask you to dress sexier if you want me to do the same, and I refuse.” He glanced toward the closet. “I’ll adjust my shirt, too, then. I didn’t bring any shorts, though, and these are fifty-five dollar cargos; I’m not going to cut them.”

“What makes you think I want you to cut mine?”

“Jeans make fantastic cut-offs. You can't cut through the pockets on cargos to shorten them up.” Finished with the shirt, Dom went to Brian and held it up in front of him, sizing up his handiwork. The sleeves had been trimmed beyond the shoulder seams and the crew-neck collar had been hacked out for a scooped neckline. The raw, ragged edges did look pretty cool, anyway. “Still covers too much,” Dom clucked. “And look at those jeans. They should be tight. The crotch of your pants hangs down to your knees.”

So Dom wouldn’t do any more cutting, Brian snatched the shirt and quickly pulled it on over his damp hair. “I like ‘em that way.”

“This is what I mean about not sexy. I mean, you got an ass and package that would make every angel in heaven cry; you should show it all off.”

The t-shirt felt better, already. “All right, let’s get your shirt.” Brian headed for the closet.

“Since I can't tighten those jeans up,” Dom said, “let me cut ‘em off.”

Ignoring him, Brian found the drawer where Dom had unpacked. He found another thin, white, V-neck undershirt, and a tight, ribbed, sleeveless one in solid black. “Now, this I like.” Brian drew it out. It was going to look awesome with the cement-colored cargos. “Why weren’t you wearing this one, instead?”

“It’d be in the laundry right about--”

“You oughta have more shirts like this.” Turning back to Dom, Brian started to dress him.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I mean, I like the vests, too. You look really hot in just a vest and naked underneath.” Enjoying the effect and the tantalizing show of cleavage, Brian ran his hands over Dom’s pecs and both felt and saw his nipples stand up beneath the fabric. “Mm,” Brian commented. Then showed further approval with a kiss.

Taking Brian’s bare shoulders, Dom crushed him, returning the kiss. When he momentarily parted, it was to guide Brian back to the bed, still kissing, until he was seated.

Behind them on the bed where it had been tossed, Dom’s cell phone went off. Leaving Brian with a lingering kiss, Dom leaned past him to answer it. “Yeah?” Straightening, Dom went to the bed table, listening. “Hold on a sec. Lemme grab a pen and paper.”

At length, he said, “Got it. Thanks.”

Unmoving, Brian waited.

The cell phone beeped when Dom evidently plugged it into its charger. When he returned to stand at the foot of the bed, it looked like he’d received some good news. “Remember what we talked about yesterday when we took the Supra out to PCH? When you asked how we made the money to trick out the cars?”

“I’m not wondering too much any more. What’d we make today so far? Like twenty grand?”

“Pocket change. How would you like to take an E-ticket ride tonight?”

~~~

Sunday—May 21

Around midnight that evening, music still pumped from mega-watt sound systems and wood fires blazed in the rapidly cooling, desert night air. With the events over for the day, the partying went on amongst the campers, outside their trailers.

Not at the Team’s trailer. They were too busy gearing up to go out that night. The immediate reaction to the plan by Vee and Leon had been one of out-and-out resistance, in Jesse’s absence. But, once Toretto broke the news that Brian would be attending--which came as a complete surprise to him--Leon relaxed considerably. Vince, however, did not. He grumbled and complained for a while. Though he was still pissed, he finally gave in.

The Team had the preparation and planning just about down to an art. Plotting out the course on Thomas Brothers maps, loading every last piece of equipment they’d need, and coaching Brian through what would be expected of him. Traveling at speeds over sixty miles per hour, the driving conditions were going to be deadly.

Mia, however, couldn’t be convinced otherwise. Still dealing with the head-on collision of shock over the discovery that Toretto’s Team was the one behind the hijackings, Brian was further surprised to learn that Mia apparently had opposed her brother’s illegal activities all along. She went ballistic as soon as she heard about it. Only it didn’t matter how much she ranted; Dominic and the other Team members ignored her. Even when she started packing to go home.

The best procedure would have been to notify dispatch in advance and let them know the route where the heist was expected to take place. That way, the department could set up a coordinated plan to shut it down at exactly the right moment, before anyone got hurt. Unfortunately, that would result in arrests and Brian hoped to avoid that. If he could talk Dom out of pulling the heist that night, that would give Brian time and space to try and appeal to his common sense later.

When they started for the cars for the drive to pick up the Hondas at the latest remote location where they’d been hidden, Brian found he wasn’t going to get that chance; it turned out it was routine practice for all of them to take separate vehicles there. That way, they’d all maintain individual exit strategies on the way to and from. Alone, however, he’d be able to call police dispatch at any time.

~~~

On driving up to the city water tanks, Dom saw immediately that one of the Hondas was missing. He parked on the opposite side of the street from the waiting vehicles. Getting out of his Mazda, he took out the set of keys he carried for each of the Hondas, in the event anyone lost or forgot a key.

The Supra, right behind him on the drive, also parked. He heard Brian exit the car.

At the rear of his Honda, Dom found the key to the missing car and released it from the ring.

As Brian swaggered up, Dom spoke. “Letty’s been here since the last time we went out. She must a come up here with somebody, ‘cos she took her car.”

Brian blinked at the empty space on the asphalt.

“That wasn’t very smart.”

The cobalt blue Maxima and the yellow Skyline GT-R arrived then, stopping along the curb behind the Supra.

Stepping out of the Maxima, Vince was the first to speak up. “Hey, where’s Letty’s car?”

While gear was being moved to the Hondas, they discovered something else; Jesse’s wouldn’t start. Having come that far, Dom wasn’t about to abort the mission. He looked across the narrow road to the Toyota. “I guess you’ll just have to take the Supra,” he told Brian. “Let’s fuel her up.”

~~~

Crossbow safely tucked at his feet, Vince slammed his door shut, after Dominic had got in behind the wheel. “Damn!” Vince growled. “This thing you got goin’ on with Spilner…Man, it ain't fair.”

Beside him, Dom watched for the headlights of the other two cars to come on. From Vince’s seat, he watched, too, and again, it didn’t seem like enough support. Yeah, they’d pulled off the last job without Letty and only Leon and Jesse to ride back-up, but, this was different. Leon and Jesse had experience behind them—not Spilner. Whether Vince liked to admit it or not, the dude was a skilled driver. For nothing could skill make up for lack of experience, though.

“Look.” Releasing the brake, Dom shifted off to drive to the road, keeping the others in sight behind them. “Things are a little different with him. I don’t know…I’ve had to play this by ear…I’ll have to see how things turn out.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t know him like I do. He’s skittish. It just means it’s gonna take some time.”

“I couldn’t see much in the dark, but it looked pretty good, and that ain't fair.”

“What were you doing? Watching him piss right now?”

“Like you say, we don’t get no more stops ‘til the job is done. So as long as he was gonna have his dick out…well, a course I was gonna look. And fuck. I never would a guessed he had that much. Not in those baggy-ass pants he wears.”

“Neither would I have.”

~~~

By the time they caught up with the truck, it was daybreak. As Dom closed the gap between his Honda and the rig, his adrenalin kicked in, shaking off his fatigue, sleep deprivation, and road-weariness. Vince grabbed the walkie-talkie and notified the others that they’d reached their target.

The stretch of freeway from LA to Coachella Valley was relatively wide open, as expected at that hour on a Sunday morning. That gave Dom plenty of opportunity to maneuver around in front of the rig and keep pace while Vince picked up the crossbow and strapped his helmet and gloves on. 

Walkie-talkie in his lap, Dom signaled the others. “Okay. Go time!”

Leon responded via walkie-talkie. “We’re all good, man. I got nothing on the scanners.”

With the sunroof open, Vince stood, and aimed straight back at the rig. Beside him, Dom felt Vince jolt from the kick-back when he released the first bolt. Then he clipped the second bolt with the cable to his belt. Apparently having made sure it was secure, he started to climb out. Using the rearview mirror, Dom tracked Vince’s progress. Just then, he saw the truck driver raise a double-barrel shotgun and aim through the missing half of windshield the first bolt had taken out.

“Vince! Vince, don’t!” Dom tried to reach after him, but he’d already boosted himself onto the roof of the Honda. “Get back in!” Dom shouted.

In the rush of sixty-five mile per hour wind plus the massive roar of the truck’s engine bearing down on them, Vince apparently couldn’t hear anything else. He made the jump.

The moment he cleared, Dom veered to get the fuck out of the way, just as he heard the blast of the shotgun. The rearview mirror revealed Vince clinging low down on the grill of the truck, hopefully unhurt. “Shit!” Dom cursed. He grabbed the walkie-talkie. “Trucker’s got a damn shotgun!”

Leon was on the walkie-talkie, instantly. “Back off! Back off! Get him offa there!”

Then Brian replied. “We’ll run distraction. You get him, Dom.”

From behind the tractor-trailer, the other Honda and the Supra launched into action. Accelerating, they cut around the truck to do their job. There was another report from the shotgun. Dom glanced back at Vince to see that again he’d ducked. He’d also taken off his helmet. That may have been to open up his visibility and maneuverability, but it might not have been the smartest move. While Brian and Leon worked on occupying the trucker, Dom seized the opportunity to decelerate so his Honda fell neck-in-neck with the right front end of the cab.

“Get me off this thing!” Vince yelled through Dom’s open window. “Pull up! Pull up!”

Steering closer, Dom leaned out and reached for Vince. “Unhook yourself!”

Without reservation, Vince tried. 

“Do it!” Dom insisted. “Do it!”

“I can't!” Vince replied. “I can't get--!”

“You can do it,” Dom prompted. “Come on, Vince.”

Another blast resounded, and Dom felt the impact against his car. He had to fight to maintain control of the wheel.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Brian demanded over the walkie-talkie. “Dom! Are you there! Come back!”

Evidently in front, Leon answered. “The asshole hit Dom’s car.”

“Lemme up there!” Brian yelled, sounding frantic.

“I’m here,” Dom responded when he could, though he was panting. “I’m okay.”

Despite all the noise, Dom heard the Supra rev as it accelerated through the gears again.

~~~

Right passenger window down, Brian pulled up to the cab of the truck. When he hit his horn, he got the response he wanted. The trucker looked over to find a SIG P226 aimed straight at him. Though he knew with the cab window shut, there was no way the trucker could hear, Brian followed protocol. He couldn’t reach his strategically hidden badge. “LAPD! Pull over! Pull over now, or I’ll shoot!”

As expected, the trucker wielded his shotgun at Brian, instead.

Brian fired, deliberately missing, but shattering the cab window.

The mat of fractured glass was shoved out by the nose of the shotgun. Anticipating this, Brian dropped back quick enough to miss the blast when it went off. “Asshole,” Brian muttered, and sped up again.

“What was that?” Dom wanted to know immediately, via walkie-talkie.

Too busy catching up to aim again, Brian didn’t answer.

Leon did. “Spilner’s got a piece. Nearly took out the trucker. By the time he shot back, Spilner was out of the way, so he’s good.”

“Keep him busy, Brian” Dom returned. “Let me get Vince off, then you can shoot this shit-wad straight to hell.”

~~~

Close again, Dom reached for Vince.

“I’m gonna unhook the cable!” Vince fought with it, using his left hand.

“Try it again!” Dom directed. “Jump on three. One--”

Without warning, the trucker slammed on the brakes. The force of inertia threw Vince from the front of the cab. Thanks to the cable, he was swung around to the right--the side that he leaned toward--rather than pitched onto the highway.

Once again through his rear-view mirror, Dom saw Vince scrabble to hold on. He managed to situate himself on a set of narrow, two-tiered steps beneath the door of the cab. 

The trucker looked pretty damn busy dodging bullets and two damned skilled drivers, so Dom fell back in place by Vince and reached for him.

“I can’t,” Vince panted, blood running down his tangled right arm. “I can't get my arm free! My arm!”

“You got to!” Dom roared. “Give me your hand!”

“I can’t!”

“I’m gonna pull you off the rig!”

Gathering his strength, Vince paused. He looked through the vent window in the cab with alarm. He barely had time to duck before it was shot out, forcing Dom to veer to the right, out of the way. Not in time. Another shot followed immediately, and hit his left front tire. “Shit!”

“Dominic!” Vince yelled.

“Dom!” Brian cried out on the walkie-talkie. “I’m coming over there!”

The blown tire made steering a bitch. There was no letting go of the wheel to grab the walkie-talkie. No matter; he was gonna get Vince off that damn truck if it killed him.

Just as he saw the Supra appear from behind the trailer, another shot went off. That time, instead of the car, it hit Vince in the side. He howled and recoiled in pain.

The trucker had slowed just enough to allow Dom to move slightly ahead. That was when he fired at the engine compartment, intent on disabling the Honda.

Steam began to billow from the engine. The asshole got his wish; the car slowed as it lost power. 

“Vince’s been shot and Dom’s car’s been taken out,” Brian reported over the walkie. “I’m going after Dom; you stay with Vince and get him the fuck off a there.”

~~~

Throwing a rubber-burning, illegal U-ey, Brian fled back down the road to the steaming Honda. Dom was out, standing beside it, waiting. Pitching to a breakneck stop, foot on the brake, Brian leaned across to throw open the door for Dom. Heart pounding, he was goddamn glad he’d not been able to reach his badge or he never would have had the chance to hide it again, in time, unless he threw it out the window. 

Before Dom could start to strap in, Brian dialed off again, in pursuit of the truck and Leon’s Honda. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Dom panted, struggling to buckle in.

Nothing more had to be said. It was only moments before they had the two vehicles ahead of them, back in sight. It looked like Leon was fairing no better at retrieving Vince from the truck, weaving in his lane as the trucker continued to threaten to bump him, or shoot his vehicle. Brian could see then that Vince was tethered to the truck with a cable wrapped around his wounded right arm. He knew then there was no way Vince would be able to get himself off that truck on his own.

There was only one alternative left. Punching the accelerator, Brian quickly caught up with the situation, which could end badly if he didn’t intervene. As he reached the rig’s trailer, he released the roof of the Supra and pushed it off.

“What the fuck--?” Dom began, turning to watch it bounce off the highway.

“Take the wheel.” Brian instructed, rapidly approaching the cab.

“What’re you gonna do?” Dom wanted to know.

“You drive. I’m climbing out and get Vince.”

“Are you crazy? No way! I can’t let you--”

“Just do it!” Brian released his seatbelt.

“Brian!”

“Do it!” 

“I’m not gonna let you kill yourself--”

Seizing Dom’s left hand, Brian placed it on the wheel, put his holster on the dash, then started to get out of the seat. That forced Dom to have to take over instantly or fall behind, the moment Brian’s foot was off the accelerator.

It had to look insane to Dom; he didn’t know anything about Brian’s training in rescue procedures as a police officer. Not that he’d had training for anything quite like he was about to attempt, but he had experience; he’d always been ready to volunteer for difficult rescues, and had gotten pretty good at it, so far.

Apparently, it looked insane to Leon, too. Soon as he saw Brian pull himself onto the door, he was on the walkie-talkie, glancing back at the Supra. “What the fuck’s Spilner doing?”

Neither Brian nor Dom could use the walkie-talkie, so Brian gestured for Leon to get out of the way.

No argument. He sped up to clear the lane.

The black Converse sneakers kept Brian from slipping from the window sill where he crouched. He quickly assessed the layout of the situation; two narrow steps—the first of which Vince occupied—a safety rail beside the right muffler, and the extended rearview mirror arm. “Pull in close!”

“No! I can’t let you!”

“There’s no other way! Do it!”

“Yes, there is! You drive. I’ll jump. This is my responsibility!”

From the truck, Vince called in desperation. “Dominic!”

“Damnit, Dom! He’s losing blood fast! We got no time!”

That seemed to convince Dom. He instantly steered in.

“Hold on!” Brian called to Vince. “I’m coming to get you!”

Acting on adrenalin, Brian jumped. Completely focused, he succeeded in seizing the chrome structures, as calculated. He felt the tractor-trailer weave, deliberately. Fortunately, Vince caught his right leg, so Brian could gain a foothold. There was barely enough room on the narrow step, but he managed to plant one foot between Vince’s thighs and the other up on the second step. Only then could he see exactly how Vince’s right arm was tangled in the cable affixed to the bolt for the crossbow he’d seen the Team pack earlier.

“Let’s get you off a here,” he told Vince, still forced to shout above the wind noise. “Here: Put your arm around me.” Already, Brian was taking Vince’s left to guide it in place around his neck. The animosity and contempt Vince had held against Brian was gone. He desperately latched on with his free arm while Brian swiftly unwrapped the cable. He found the tightly bound cable had sliced deep through Vince’s flesh. “Don’t let go of me, Vince!” Brian warned. “No matter what, don’t let go!”

In abject fear, Vince clung to him.

Once he was freed, Brian stood him up on that infinitesimal strip of metal, the asphalt flying beneath their feet at sixty-five miles per hour. Any misstep would, in all certainty, cost one or both of them their lives. He pointed Vince toward the Supra, which had somehow kept pace, despite that the massive rig continued to sway all over the lane. But, Dom was an excellent driver.

When the Supra was close enough, Brian instructed, “Jump!” adding a strong push to ensure Vince reached the car.

Releasing the wheel with one hand, Dom was ready to help Vince board the open cockpit, while struggling to watch the fast-fleeting roadway and maintain his proximity.

In those few seconds, Brian checked back through the blown-out cab vent window. The trucker had just finished cocking his shotgun and leveled it straight between Brian’s eyes. 

“Fuck!”

On his leap for the Supra, Brian felt the heat of the shotgun blast scorch through his hair to the nape of his neck.

In fear for his life, Brian scrambled madly to grab a hold on the frame of the windshield of the Supra, sprawled where the roof used to be. Why the fuck had did they have to go and lay down a showroom finish wax job?

Thankfully, Dom had the good sense to turn onto the dirt shoulder, for a smooth, but rapid deceleration. Soon as he could, Brian leapt off.

Immediately, they were both at the passenger door, getting Vince out.

He didn’t look good. Bleeding pretty badly from his wounds, he was pale, gasping, and breathing irregularly. They had no choice but to lay him on the ground, amidst the dirt and scrub. Between the wounds on his arm and that on his side, he was losing way too much blood. Considering the amount and color of it running from his inner, upper arm, there was a real good chance Vince’s brachial artery had been lacerated.

Brian made a quick survey of what they had on them, then dove for Vince’s waistband. “His belt! Get his belt off him!”

Without question, Dom struggled to help. 

In a minor cloud of dust, Leon drove up. He rushed over.

The worst of the blood loss was coming from a wound high up under Vince’s arm as suspected, Brian hastily bound his arm as tight as possible, right over his brachial artery. “Come on, Vince,” Brian panted, “hang in there!” With Vince’s arm still elevated, Brian looked to Dom. “Hold this,” he instructed, gripping the belt in place. “Keep pressure on it and keep his arm up.”

Nodding, Dom immediately obeyed, while Vince moaned and coughed.

“What can I do?” Leon offered, anxiously.

As soon as he could let go, Brian fumbled for his cell phone. “Help Dom keep that pressure on. If we don’t get Vince to an ambulance in ten minutes, he’s dead.” He flipped it open and speed-dialed.

“Nine-one-one,” an operator responded.

“Yeah.”

“What is your emergency?”

“This is Officer Brian O'Conner.”

Startling, Dom looked up, as did Leon, nearly falling on his ass. They traded a look between them.

“I’m off-duty LAPD,” Brian continued. “I need a Life-Flight roll-out right away. My twenty is, uh--” he glanced back at the road to trigger his memory of the closest sign they’d passed. “Highway 86, mile marker 147. I got one male trauma victim about 24 years of age. Six foot. Maybe 200 pounds.”

“I’m contacting Life Flight emergency dispatch right now. What are the injuries?”

Avoiding visual contact, he could feel Dom’s heated glare intensifying.

“He’s got deep lacerations to his right arm with arterial bleeding. And he’s got a shotgun wound--close range--to his left flank.”

A pause, then, “An air ambulance is on the way, ETA twelve minutes.”

“Yeah,” Brian acknowledged.

“Any other injuries?”

Right then, Vince’s moaning stopped, making Brian bolt over him for another quick assessment, alarming Dom and Leon. Vince had gone limp and unresponsive. As Brian felt for a carotid pulse through Vince’s rapidly cooling skin, the minimal rise and fall of his chest assured him that the victim was at least still breathing. “Yeah, he’s going into shock!”

Snapping the cell phone shut and pocketing it in one motion, Brian quickly unzipped Vince’s pants to loosen them. He saw that Leon had taken over supplying first aid, as Dom must have been too freaked out to think straight. “Keep that pressure on his arm,” Brian told Leon, seeing that the bleeding had slowed and checked his watch.

“What the fuck are we gonna do, Dom?” Leon wanted to know. “This is all messed up, man. We know what’s gonna happen when they get here.”

Dom rose to his feet, threateningly, glare still locked on Brian.

For some time, he’d been wondering how the hell he was ever going to tell Dom. The time had come, and Brian was still at a loss. He stood, as well, and struggled to utilize his training as a mediator to handle the situation.

“Dominic!” Leon was becoming more agitated. “What the fuck! Don’t just stand there!”

Without a word, Dom motioned at Leon to take it down several notches. That quieted him. At the same time, his gaze didn’t leave Brian’s. In those beautiful, large-lidded, expressive eyes, Brian saw rage, accusation, and pain all at once. Hit hard, he lost any ability to speak or think.

~~~

At the time that the air ambulance could be seen in the distance, Brian had relieved Leon who was tiring, to hold the gushing artery closed. Knowing that help was on the way, Toretto and Leon only then rushed their Honda, saying nothing to Brian, and fled. 

Watching the helicopter lift off, Brian was able to refocus on his job and knew then how critical it was for him to finish out the case on his own.

~~~

Outside the Toretto house, Mia’s Acura was parked at the curb, indicating that the threat she’d made to go home the night before hadn’t been idle. As Brian approached in the Supra, he spotted the black Charger sitting at the top of the drive.

He swung the Supra to enter the driveway, and saw Toretto exiting the garage to climb behind the wheel of the Charger, shotgun in his hands.

“Oh, shi--” Brian managed to slam on the brakes and scramble for his gun. Poised to shoot, he got out of the car. “Drop your weapon!” he ordered.

“Fuck you!” Dom yelled. “You’re a goddamn pig! Get yourself and your goddamn car the fuck off my property!” Though he didn’t raise the gun, he didn’t stop, either.

“Damn it, Dom, don’t make me have to shoot! I said drop your weapon!”

“So, shoot! You think I give a damn?”

The front door burst open and Mia raced to the edge of the porch in a nightgown. “Stop it, Dom! Stop it! Please don’t do this!”

Lowering the gun barrel, Dom halted to address her. “Get back in the house.”

From the corner of Brian’s eye, he saw a white vehicle drive up. In that brief glimpse, he knew it was the Jetta. It stopped at the curb. He heard the door open.

Getting out the car, Jesse was already apologizing. He sounded drunk and upset. “Dom. I’m so sorry, man. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was so stupid.” Evidently, the scene in front of him hadn’t registered. “I should have listened to you, Brian.” On the sidewalk, he started toward the Supra, staggering.

Dom was quick to caution him. “You still don’t know what you’re doing. Get in the--”

Something caught his attention and he looked down the street in the same direction from which Jesse had arrived.

Then Brian heard the echo of rice rocket engines in the early Sunday morning air. 

He recognized the Trans’ bikes instantly, bearing down fast.

“Down!” he yelled, diving into the Supra for cover.

“Get down!” Dom commanded.

In the time it took for Jesse to scope out the danger, it was too late. The Trans had brought their automatics, just as Brian expected, and opened fire. From where he leaned away from the open door, his weapon leveled to take no prisoners, he saw the spray of bullets sweep both the car and Jesse. He was struck at least three or four times before he went down.

In full-on attack mode, Brian leapt out of the Supra to blow away any goddamn Tran he could before they rode out of range. When it was safe, Dom and Mia raced to the sidewalk to get to Jesse.

The game had shifted; with a glance of acknowledgement to the Torettos, Brian was back in the Supra, speeding after the Trans.

~~~

At last, in the industrial end of the city, Dom stopped the gleaming Charger at a red light and waited for Brian to pull up beside him. The deep, throaty sound of that engine even at idle was awesome.

Window down, Dom looked as though he was taking a casual Sunday cruise. Across the open Supra, he asked “You think you’re gonna take me in?”

“Pull over.”

Off in the distance, they heard a train horn. 

“You may as well call for backup,” Dom said, “’cos if anybody’s gonna take me in, it’s gonna have to be somebody else.” He tapped the steering wheel easily, as if he had all the time in the world. “Someone who isn’t so damn beautiful. Someone who didn’t fuck me and lie to me, right in my face, while he did it.” 

Brian blinked. “I’m sure they’re on the way already. I’m sure more than a few people have already reported a 1970 black Charger and a 1995 bright orange Supra going postal on the streets.”

Gazing up the road, Dom squinted. “That railroad crossing is exactly a quarter of a mile from here. Like I said, I’ll die before I go back…”

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to hear from you. Please visit my writing blog at: http://exlibrisxscribe.tumblr.com/


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